5 Times Obi-Wan Wished He Had a Father
by Floral Backpack
Summary: Basically does what the title says—a series of interludes set between some of the Jedi Apprentice books, detailing the growth in the relationship of everyone's favorite master-padawan team. Chapter 6: Qui-Gon's side of the story (bonus)
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: So...I haven't actually read the JA books since I was about 11 (ten years ago now). But I've ordered the first few in the mail and should be getting them soon. In the meantime I've been doing my best to research the background for this story (particularly regarding Melida/Daan), but if things aren't canonically correct, I apologize in advance. Just try to suspend your disbelief and I'll edit it later once I have time to actually read the books. _**

**_This is a collection of one-shots loosely based around the '5 Times Plus 1' trope, although it is a much looser interpretation than many others I've seen on here. The theme of Obi-Wan wanting a father won't always be explicitly stated in each one; it's moreso implied. But if you're confused at all, I welcome all questions. _**

**_This will be shameless H/C and angst with father/son dynamics, but hopefully everyone is relatively in character haha  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own it.  
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><p>"If I had known that you would move so quickly this morning at the suggestion of getting out of the Temple for the day, I'd promise you a trip to the outside world more often, Padawan," Qui-Gon says in his level, mellifluous voice; a spark of humor in his eyes. "Perhaps every time you complain about running the training center's obstacle course." He raises an eyebrow as he slowly sips his muja juice, taking his sweet time to finish off his morning meal.<p>

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes as he paces in front of the small table in their quarters, knowing that he is behaving childishly but unable to bring himself to care. Qui-Gon is merely jesting—while Obi-Wan may not naturally be a morning person, living in the Jedi Temple for the majority of his thirteen years has made him disciplined enough to get up early each day and move through his morning routine with efficiency.

However, it _is _true that he has spent the morning running somewhat frantically around their quarters, preparing for the day in only ten minutes. Now he has just been pacing, watching in agony as Qui-Gon has been devouring his toast for what feels like five hundred light years. But it isn't _his _fault—it has been ages since he has gotten out of the Temple! They have been here for almost a month since their last mission, and if Jedi were allowed to be bored and impatient, then he would be very, very, very bored and very, very, very impatient.

Completely hypothetically, of course.

Part of it is childish energy and immaturity, and the other, much darker part has to do with the recent Melida/Daan fiasco. He knows that he and Qui-Gon are being held back at the Temple by the Council so that they can rebuild their bond and recover from the whole ordeal, but he chafes at all the downtime; yearning to have a mission just to get his mind off the sight of Bruck Chun falling, falling, falling; always falling…in his dreams, in his meditations, in his mind as he lays in bed at night. Not to mention the fact that things with Qui-Gon are still tenuous and delicate, in spite of their newly-restored bond. A mission would force them to put aside the awkwardness and uncertainties for the sake of action, instead of the two of them just orbiting around each other in their quarters with slight awkwardness, as they have been doing.

He shoves all of these dark thoughts from his mind, just as he has been doing this entire month. "I would have had time to do the whole obstacle course five times through in just the time that it is taking you to eat your breakfast, Master," Obi-Wan mutters as he paces, shuddering as he thinks of the horribly complex obstacle course in one of the training salles that Qui-Gon makes him do every few weeks. He'd need more than the promise of an errand outside the temple to be genuinely enthused about _that._

"What was that, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asks lightly, taking a tiny sip of his tea this time. Why Qui-Gon has to take the time to drink so many beverages when they could be out in the city is beyond Obi-Wan.

"Nothing, Master. I was merely wondering what errand we're going to run today," Obi-Wan amends quickly, suddenly worried that he has been too disrespectful with his pacing and muttering. He has been Qui-Gon's padawan for almost a year now, and he still is uncertain of the boundaries of their apprenticeship. He is fairly certain that Qui-Gon is just eating slowly to tease Obi-Wan, but he is uncertain if he is allowed to tease back or not, especially after the recent strain in their relationship.

To be honest, he still fears being pushed away by the Jedi Master, who has warmed considerably to Obi-Wan in the past year but still holds him at arm's length in many ways. Initially, Obi-Wan knew that this was because of Xanatos, but this new tentativeness is his own fault, because he had gone and left Qui-Gon just like Xanatos had. Obviously the circumstances between the two padawans abandoning their apprenticeship with Qui-Gon had been night and day, but he fears Qui-Gon doesn't see it that way.

He had hoped that things would go back to normal quickly after Qui-Gon had accepted him as his padawan again on their way back from Telos, but it seems that they are going to have to find a new 'normal' after all their bond has been through. Things have been somewhat tense and awkward between the two of them, and Obi-Wan knows that Qui-Gon is just trying to come to terms with Xanatos' death, so he can't blame the man for being withdrawn. It's not that he expects the sedate Jedi master to stoop to anger, but it would almost make Obi-Wan feel_ better _if Qui-Gon would just let loose and yell at him. Maybe then they could get it all in the open and just move on from there.

But then again, maybe Qui-Gon doesn't care enough about Obi-Wan to pursue the matter any further.

Another thought that he pushes away.

He needn't have worried today about testing things today, however. He doesn't need to look at Qui-Gon to know that the older man is arching a sardonic eyebrow at Obi-Wan—Qui-Gon is sending him the equivalent emotion over their bond, and there is a warm undercurrent of laughter in it. Qui-Gon knows exactly what Obi-Wan had mumbled to himself, and he is not offended. Obi-Wan's chest constricts slightly with emotion at the warmth of the familiar mental touch, and he once again thanks the Force that Qui-Gon had taken him back as a padawan again. He will take what he can get, even if he longs for their bond to be deeper.

Allowing himself to relax again, Obi-Wan leans against the table, resisting the urge to jiggle his leg impatiently.

"We will be heading to the market for a very important purchase, Padawan," Qui-Gon announces, finally taking his last bite of toast. Obi-Wan wonders if it would be rude to cheer.

"What kind of purchase?" He asks, instantly perking up at Qui-Gon's vague choice of words. He is anxious now more than ever to be the perfect padawan; to read the subtle hints in his master's speech before the older man has to explain what he is thinking and how he is strategizing. "Are we getting something for a new mission? Meeting a new contact in the market?" He tries not to sound _too _hopeful, but it has been a long month of the same routine each day—meditations, lessons, and trainings. A new adventure would be welcome.

Qui-Gon smiles, and Obi-Wan would like to think that it is affectionate; almost indulgent even. But as always, he is never fully certain.

"No, Padawan," Qui-Gon says, standing to place his dishes near the washing unit. "Today we are going to buy fertilizer for my new _draconis _plant."

"Oh," Obi-Wan says eloquently. He hates that plant—Qui-Gon had adopted it on Menbar 9, the planet where they'd been on their second to last mission—one of those 'strays' that Master Tahl Uvain was always joking about Qui-Gon taking on. "But Master…why? Why not just order some and have it delivered to the temple? Or why not speak to the temple gardeners about using some of their fertilizer?"

As he says this, he glances over at the aforementioned plant and has to admit that it looks rather…wilted. It stands in the corner of their shared apartment, and to Obi-Wan, has always seemed unusually sentient for a plant. And somewhat malicious.

But only towards Obi-Wan.

The thing seems to blossom whenever Qui-Gon steps near it; unfurling slightly as if reaching towards him and the Living Force that pulses and flows so effortlessly through the master's Force signature. But it doesn't like Obi-Wan. He doesn't know why or how he knows this, but he just does. He'd never say it out loud, because it would sound crazy, but the fact is, the _draconis _plant hates him. Maybe that's why it's dying—Obi-Wan's offensive presence in the apartment is smothering it. Indeed, even as he mentions the idea of Qui-Gon ordering some fertilizer instead of taking the pains to find some himself, the plant seems to recoil in sharp disapproval, offense prickling from its brownish leaves. It reminds him of Master Jocasta Nu's face whenever Obi-Wan handles manuscripts too roughly in the archives.

Qui-Gon clears his throat, a slightly odd expression on his face. "The fertilizer that I am seeking is not commonly found in most markets. Therefore, I feel it would be more prudent to seek it in person."

"So…we can only buy this fertilizer on the black market, is what you're saying," Obi-Wan clarifies, glaring back at the sulky-looking plant in the corner. He has taken countless politics and economics courses during his time at the Jedi Temple, and yet, he has never heard much about there being an underground market for plant fertilizer. But he wouldn't put it past Qui-Gon to be secretly harboring some sort of exotic, illegal plant. Frankly, Obi-Wan wouldn't mind if the stupid thing _was _illegal and had to be confiscated.

Qui-Gon glances between the scowling Obi-Wan and the shriveled plant a few times, bewilderment crossing his leonine features. "Padawan, I hope you are not attempting to kill my plant with Force tactics right now."

Obi-Wan blinks and forces himself to look away from the _draconis, _which brightens slightly in smug victory.

"Of course not, Master," Obi-Wan says primly. "And the plant started it, anyway," he mutters to himself.

Qui-Gon eyes him carefully for a moment longer. "Very well, we should be getting on our way before the air traffic becomes too busy." He stands and begins to gather up his cloak and his pouch of credits, and Obi-Wan takes the opportunity to shoot a final scowl at the plant behind his master's back.

It isn't until they are walking down the front steps of the temple and out into the bustle of Coruscant that Obi-Wan realizes that Qui-Gon had managed to change the subject and completely sidestep Obi-Wan's deduction about the black market.

Maybe today will bring about a little bit of the adventure he's been craving after all.

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><p>An hour later finds them right in the underworld of Coruscant, in one of the worst areas of the city that Obi-Wan has ever been to. In spite of the morning hour, the streets down here are dark and grim, untouched by sunlight. Rats and all sorts of other creatures skitter through alleyways, and the Force cries out in misery as they walk past abandoned buildings and desperately poor-looking people.<p>

Qui-Gon seems to know exactly where they are going, and as they step into a small, musty shop, Obi-Wan covers his mouth with his sleeve, coughing harshly against the sharp, bitter smell of herbs and fertilizer. He feels Qui-Gon's gaze upon him and hastily stifles his burning lungs, not wanting to appear rude to the shop owner.

It is dark and cramped in the two-room store, and nobody comes to greet them at the door, in spite of the tinkle of a bell overhead when they enter. Obi-Wan squints through the dimness as his eyes adjust, trying to use Force-enhanced vision to get a better idea of what this place is exactly. He is sure that his master, ever attuned to the Living Force, must be in a state of revelry, because all sorts and species of plants line the walls and aisles of the store, some resting under the dim glow of heat lamps.

He realizes afterwards that he is concentrating far too hard on scoping out the shop, leaving him blind to what was truly happening around him, because doesn't see the child until he stands in front of Obi-Wan, one small, dirty hand reaching out to tug on the hem of Obi-Wan's tunic.

Obi-Wan flinches, startled, taking a step back and stumbling into Qui-Gon's solid chest. Embarrassed at his inattentiveness and un-Jedi-like clumsiness, he quickly rights his balance and faces the child that had materialized so suddenly and silently in front of them. Qui-Gon lightly places a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder to steady him, and he bites back a small smile at the reassuring, though unnecessary, gesture.

The boy is not of a species that Obi-Wan recognizes offhand—although his features are fairly humanoid, his skin is a light blue-gray color and there are gold markings around his wide, large black eyes. He is probably only about five or six years old, but there is a solemnity to his bearing that makes him seem older. His hands and clothes are dirty and he has an underfed, rangy look. Obi-Wan wonders why a child is allowed to be alone in a shop in a part of town like this. He reaches out tentatively with the Force, only to find that the child's Force presence oddly muted and cloudy.

But the boy's voice is polite and well-mannered when he speaks. "Welcome to Pharrin's Shop for Unique Plants," he says to Obi-Wan. "I am Nat; how can I be of service to you—" he cuts off suddenly with a gasp as he looks beyond Obi-Wan for the first time. "Master Qui-Gon! You're back!" He exclaims, dropping into an enthusiastic bow, childish excitement suddenly replacing his serious, professional countenance.

It is clear that Nat recognizes Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan looks over at his master with surprise; wondering how often the older Jedi has cause to come here for illegal plant-nurturing supplies. He raises a pointed eyebrow at his master, sending the question across their bond with a hint of a smirk.

Qui-Gon studiously ignores his padawan's mental nudge, though his mouth quirks slightly in response as he bends down on one knee to talk to Nat. He smiles affectionately at the boy, resting an easy hand on the child's shoulder, and something tightens slightly in Obi-Wan's chest. He chooses not to examine the emotion too closely, but it may be something like jealousy. It had felt special when Qui-Gon had put his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder a moment ago, but maybe it hadn't meant anything, if he does the same now for this random child.

"And how are you, young Nat?" Qui-Gon asks the boy in that special way he has of making everyone feel important when he speaks to them. Obi-Wan grits his teeth and attempts to release his feelings into the Force, as he has always been taught to do. He can count on one hand the number of times Qui-Gon has used that tone with him—if only he were one of the many weak stray beings that his master is so prone to taking in! Qui-Gon is more likely to talk to the stupid _draconis _like that before he ever deigned to use that tone with Obi-Wan.

"I'm good! I'm six years old now! And Papa says that maybe I can go to school soon!" The seriousness has completely melted away from the little one, his words quick and stumbling over one another with elation.

"Six? But you can't be six already; you were just _five _the last time I saw you," Qui-Gon says seriously, a hint of humor sparking in his eyes.

Nat giggles. "But Master Qui-Gon, six comes after five! You learn about numbers and things like that at _school." _He says the word 'school' with such wonder that it makes Obi-Wan curious—generally Coruscanti children began school at five years of age—why is Nat waiting an extra year?

"I see. Perhaps I should return to school myself," Qui-Gon jokes, chucking Nat under the chin before stretching to his full height again. Obi-Wan counts backwards slowly in Huttese, hoping that distraction will prevent him, a Jedi Padawan, from being jealous of a grimy six-year-old living in a black market plant shop. It's just… he can't imagine Qui-Gon ever being so open and affectionate with _him_. And it hurts somewhere deep in his chest, in a place that he refuses to acknowledge, because it's not the Jedi way to _want _like this.

The worst part is that it's all his own fault. _If only he hadn't messed up so badly on Melida/Daan._ He still doesn't regret helping the Young, but he regrets the way it had all played out between himself and Qui-Gon. And now things may never be the same again, and it's because of his decisions. He throws up his shields quickly, hoping that none of this will seep across the bond.

"Where is your father, Nat?" Qui-Gon continues, thankfully seeming oblivious to his padawan's emotional turbulence.

Nat bites his lower lip, twisting his hands together nervously. "He went to make a delivery, Master Qui-Gon, sir. He said he'd be back soon."

Obi-Wan feels his eyebrows shoot up incredulously. Nat seems relatively mature, but why would anybody leave a six-year-old alone in a shop, let alone _in charge _of said shop?

"Very well. We shall wait for his return with you, Nat," Qui-Gon says, shooting him a warning glance, clearly not wanting Obi-Wan to vocalize his disbelief for some reason. Something is going on here that doesn't meet the eye.

There is a sudden, urgent spike in the Force, and all of a sudden the door bursts open, two men wearing masks bursting in with blasters.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan unsheathe their sabers in perfect unison, forming a defensive wall in front of Nat. Though they have worked together for less than a year, the depth of their bond allows them to anticipate each other's actions before the other has even fully thought of their next step, and, as always, Obi-Wan is reassured by his master's familiar presence at his side in the midst of a confrontation.

There is a hushed moment of anticipation where they all stand and stare at one another. The two men apparently had not anticipated Jedi when they barged into the shop, and they hesitate now.

The larger one lifts his blaster, however, aiming it right at Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan fights down a current of worry, reminding himself that Qui-Gon could quite easily deflect a blaster shot with his lightsaber in his sleep with his hands tied behind his back.

"Where is Pharrin?" He grunts.

"Not here right now," Nat pipes up innocently from behind them. Obi-Wan stifles a groan. "But if you'd like me to give him a message when he returns—"

"Shut up, kid," the shorter of the two intruders snaps. "You tell your father that he is two weeks late on his payment to Lord Tenebras, and that if he wants to keep his head attached to his body, he'd better pay up _now._"

_Tenebras…_where has Obi-Wan heard that name before? Judging by the grim set of Qui-Gon's jaw, his master knows exactly who they are dealing with and why, but Obi-Wan remains in the dark. He searches through his memory, his eyes widening as he suddenly remembers overhearing a story that Siri Tachi had told at mealtime the other week about a strain of murders in the Coruscant underworld, all associated with Lord Tenebras, the famous Coruscanti mobster. He has no clue why a man like Pharrin, who sells exotic plants for a living, would be mixed up with Tenebras, but this is indeed a grave and dangerous situation if Siri's story is to be believed.

The tall one elbows his comrade and mutters something that sounds like "…take the kid…hostage…"

Obi-Wan tenses, ready to defend Nat if these men try to forcibly take the boy. But Qui-Gon has apparently had enough. He raises a hand in the air, and Obi-Wan can feel the Force pool in his master's calm words.

"You do not want to take the boy as a hostage. You want to leave the shop and not come back for the rest of the day."

Obi-Wan scarcely dares to breathe, wondering if the men will be strong-minded enough to resist the Force suggestion.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the short one turns to the tall one. "We don't want to take the boy as hostage. We should leave and not come back for the money until tomorrow."

The tall one nods, and they turn and leave the store, walking as if in a dream. Qui-Gon deactivates his lightsaber and clips it back to his belt, and Obi-Wan follows suit, releasing a relieved breath.

Nat seems unperturbed by his thwarted kidnapping attempt. He practically bounces as he turns to Obi-Wan. "Wow! You're a Jedi too, like Master Qui-Gon! I knew it!"

Obi-Wan just blinks, staring pointedly at Qui-Gon, who is curiously examining the slippery leaves of a nearby plant as though nothing has just happened.

The door opens again, and Obi-Wan tenses, although he doesn't feel any disturbance in the Force this time. It is a man that is undoubtedly Nat's father—he has the same blue skin and gold markings, and very similar facial features, although Pharrin is a much, much darker blue than his son.

His expression is frantic, and he heaves a gigantic sigh of relief upon seeing Nat unharmed. He hurriedly scoops the little boy up and holds him close, brushing dark spiky hair from the boy's forehead. Obi-Wan watches curiously, not accustomed to watching children interact with their parents after growing up in the Temple crèche. "I saw those men in the alley—Nat, are you alright? What did they—" he murmurs, clearly frazzled and still affected by his earlier panic. "Qui-Gon!" He remarks in sudden surprise as he notices the tall Jedi. His eyes flicker to Obi-Wan, and then dart back to the obviously familiar form of the Jedi Master.

"Hello, Pharrin," Qui-Gon says, smiling warmly at the man. "We just got here a few moments ago. This is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Pharrin shakes Obi-Wan's hand courteously, although he still seems somewhat in shock. His eyes widen as his gaze flickers to Qui-Gon's belt where his lightsaber hangs. "_Thank you, _old friend," he breathes fervently, clutching his son tighter in his arms. "Thank you for being here."

"Daddy! These men came looking for you and they were really mad! But Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan saved me," Nat narrates the tale excitedly, clearly having enjoyed the adventure.

Qui-Gon nods. "They were sent by Tenebras. I bought you the rest of the day at least." He pulls his pouch of credits off his belt. "I'm afraid it's not quite enough—you might still be a few hundred short of the monthly payment, but this should cover most of it—"

"I can't accept that, Qui," Pharrin says quietly, although his eyes are conflicted and miserable as he clutches his child to his chest.

"Of course you can," Qui-Gon says with his best negotiator tone of voice. Obi-Wan watches with the same amazement that he feels every time the wise older Jedi manages to make people feel at ease against all odds. "It's the least I can do—remember, I still owe you a favor for that time in the bar on 12th street—"

Pharrin's lips quirk upwards. "Ah, yes, I remember that night well, old friend. But still—"

"Please," Qui-Gon says lightly. "I won't accept 'no' for an answer. Take the money, if only for the sake of Nat's safety. I'll talk to Master Yoda at the Temple and see if we can get some help for you."

Pharrin hesitates but after a moment, reaches out to accept the pouch, his eyes misty. "Thank you, old friend," he breathes, swallowing thickly and visibly collecting himself. "Now, then! What service can I do for you today? Anything you need; it's on the house!" He kisses Nat on the cheek before depositing the boy back on the ground.

"Well, I was actually looking for some fertilizer for a _draconis _plant. It isn't thriving like I'd expect it to…" Qui-Gon begins. Obi-Wan coughs nervously, thinking of the stupid dying plant and how it's probably his fault. He is relieved as Qui-Gon and Pharrin begin to stroll away towards the back of the store, where the fertilizer appears to be stored.

_"Stay with the boy, Padawan. I need to talk to Pharrin away from young ears for a moment," _Qui-Gon sends over their bond, and Obi-Wan nods imperceptibly. He wonders if _his _ears are also considered too young to be a part of the conversation, and fights the urge to bristle at the implication that Qui-Gon thinks he is too young to fully participate in important matters. Then again, he shouldn't be surprised. His recent actions have hardly been those of a mature Jedi Master.

And just like that, Obi-Wan is left with a hyper young boy.

"That was _so _cool, Master Obi-Wan! When did you get a lightsaber? Is it hard to use? Can I hold it?!"

Obi-Wan shakes his head, struggling to filter through the rapid flow of questions. "I'm not a master, Nat. This is just a training saber. And it's hard, but we train for our whole lives, so we learn gradually."

Nat thinks about this for a minute, coughing a deep, chesty cough that makes Obi-Wan's chest ache in sympathy. When he finally gets his breath back, he gazes up at Obi-Wan with earnest dark eyes.

"Is Master Qui-Gon your father?" He asks seriously.

Obi-Wan almost chokes on air, he is so shocked by the innocent inquiry. "Wha—no! He's just my master," he corrects hastily, praying that Qui-Gon can not hear their conversation. "Why would you think that?"

Nat shrugs. "When those men were here and you pulled out your lightsabers, you stepped a little in front of me, to protect me. And Master Qui-Gon stepped a little in front of _you, _so that he could protect you. It seems like something my daddy would do for me."

Obi-Wan doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't remember his own father, and he doesn't know anything about how parents and children typically interact from his own personal experience; merely from limited outside observation.

He is spared answering as Nat dissolves into another coughing fit, this one even worse.

Pharrin hurries over to check on the little boy, who cannot seem to get a good breath. Finally he just picks the child up, looking at him like nothing else in the world exists. "I'm sorry to run, but we need to go do his treatment," he says, forehead crinkled deeply with worry. "It was nice to meet you, Obi-Wan. Thank you for what you have done here today. It won't be forgotten."

Obi-Wan bows politely. "Feel better, Nat," he says solicitously.

"Don't be a stranger, Qui," Pharrin calls over his shoulder as he trundles his son away to the back room.

"Well," Qui-Gon says, hefting up a small bag of fertilizer. "I think we got what we came here for."

They return to the misty sunlight of the underworld, squinting against the foggy brightness.

Obi-Wan manages to wait a whole block before he speaks.

"Master, what was going on in there?"

Qui-Gon looks at him appraisingly. "What do you mean exactly?"

"Why does Pharrin owe the mob money? Why did he leave Nat alone in charge of the shop? Why does he sell illegal plants for a living?" Obi-Wan's questions fly off his tongue.

Qui-Gon is quiet for a long moment. "Tell me, Padawan, did you notice anything strange about Nat while we were at the shop?"

_Yes, he was a six-year-old child who was left all alone in a store in a dangerous part of town. _Biting back a smart reply, Obi-Wan tries to seriously consider the question. "Well…his Force presence seemed off when I tried to feel him out. And he kept coughing…" Obi-Wan trails off as realization sets in, a sort of heaviness settling over his heart. "He's sick, isn't he, Master?"

Qui-Gon nods. "You are correct. It's a rare illness, and Nat's mother died of it about a year ago now. There are treatments available for it, but they are incredibly expensive and don't always work. In Pharrin's case, he's had to take out loans from Tenebras because he has nowhere else to turn to. And he works extra jobs for extra money, which means that he often has to leave Nat alone in the shop, unattended. The boy isn't well enough to go to school yet, either."

"Wow," Obi-Wan says, suddenly feeling that every single problem he has ever had is completely insignificant. "Isn't there something we can do to help, Master? Can't the healers at the Temple help Nat?"

Qui-Gon nods. "I hadn't realized the situation had gotten quite so dangerous, or that Pharrin was struggling quite as hard as he was to make ends meet. I will speak with Master Yoda when we return and see what he can do to help them."

Obi-Wan nods, pleased with this news. Though he hadn't known Pharrin or Nat for long, he had been fascinated by the way they interacted; the panic and care in Pharrin's eyes when he thought his son was in danger or he was coughing, and Nat's easy love and trust in his father. He thinks of how desperately Pharrin is working to save his son, and can't help but glance over at Qui-Gon, a strange and terrifying thought popping into his head.

_If he was sick like Nat was, would Qui-Gon do all those things for him?_

It is a ridiculous question: the infirmary at the Jedi Temple would take care of everything if Obi-Wan became ill. But the strange, wistful _wanting_ feeling is back in his chest again, although he still does not have a name for it. He has a feeling that it is somehow related with his feelings of frustration with himself at how he had messed up his bond with Qui-Gon, but he doesn't quite understand how the two are linked. He will have to meditate on it later.

"You did well today, Padawan," Qui-Gon says suddenly, and Obi-Wan looks up at his master in surprise. "You kept a cool head and handled yourself well when Tenebras' men came into the shop."

Obi-Wan blushes with shy pleasure at the compliment. Perhaps all is not lost after all. "Thank you, Master. But you were the one who de-escalated the situation."

Qui-Gon flags down an air taxi. "They weren't very strong-minded," he says humbly. "But Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, Master?"

"That was enough adventure for one day, I think. Perhaps tomorrow we'll just stick to the obstacle course."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan groans, but he cannot help the smile fighting its way across his face. Soon they will be called up for another mission, but for now, he is simply content to accompany his master and learn from his strange, chaotic wisdom.


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is set about a month after the first one- Obi-Wan is still 13, but he is very close to turning 14.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<br>**

Qui-Gon is going to murder Obi-Wan. There is no doubt about it.

That is his only thought as he staggers and crumples to the ground in the middle of his saber class.

He has been distracted as of late, and it has greatly affected his sparring. Nightmares from Melida/Daan crowd his sleep, and he can't remember the last time he slept the whole night through without waking up gasping for breath, Cerasi or Bruck Chun's name on his lips. Sometimes he doesn't manage to save Bant, and sometimes it is Qui-Gon who dies in his dreams.

Ironically, last night was the only night in the past two months that he'd actually slept the whole night through, and it was only because he and Qui-Gon had been up until the wee hours of the night, prepping for the mission that they were supposed to leave for tomorrow. His dreams had been troubled, but he'd been too tired for real nightmares.

_"You can sleep in tomorrow and skip your sparring class if you want, Padawan," _Qui-Gon had said as they'd packed up the mountain of data pads that they'd been poring over ceaselessly for the past several hours. _"I'll have Master Drallig excuse you for the day. It's more important that you be well-rested for this mission."_

And like the idiot that he is, Obi-Wan had shaken his head and arisen at an ungodly hour for saber class in spite of his master's advice to do otherwise. He'd felt the need to work off some nervous energy this morning, and sparring was always excellent for such a purpose. He _wants_ to be good and exhausted for the mission, so that whenever they find time to sleep, he will be able to do so without nightmares.

Truth be told, he is worried about returning to the field. He feels like this is all he's been waiting for for the past two months, but now that the time has arrived he is suddenly anxious. After his disastrous experiences with Bant's kidnapping and Bruck Chun's subsequent death, he doubts himself more than he ever has in the past. His relationship with Qui-Gon is still on somewhat unsteady footing, and he is terrified of that he might not get another chance if he makes another big mistake.

On the other hand, he knows that Qui-Gon is restless, and that the Jedi master is extremely grateful for their diplomatic assignment to the Nubian system, however trivial it may be.

Just as Obi-Wan has not spoken of what had happened on Melida/Daan or in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, nor has Qui-Gon spoken about what had transpired on Telos, leading to Xanatos' death. He suspects that Qui-Gon is anxious for the distraction of field work to take his mind off the loss of his wayward apprentice.

Their mission appears to be a simple one—they are simply going to oversee a change in power from one political party to another—but Obi-Wan dreads messing things up for his master.

This worry, along with the fact that he has been sleeping poorly, leaves him vulnerable and open to attack in saber class. It doesn't help that he is dueling against Siri Tachi, who is a formidable opponent in all areas of physical fighting, in spite of the fact that she is two years younger.

Normally they are extremely well-matched opponents—Obi-Wan is one of the only people who can keep up with Siri's acrobatic Ataru fighting style, and he delights in how much of a challenge it is to beat her, or even just hold his own against her relentless, well-placed attacks. He knows that she doesn't approve of him at all because he had left the Order and then returned, and that adds an interesting edge to their spars.

But today he is sluggish; always on the defensive and quickly losing ground. The Force feels further away than normal; muted in his exhausted brain.

It all happens in less than the blink of an eye—Siri feints left and does an impossibly graceful backflip right over his head. It would have been the perfect maneuver to twist around and instantly disarm him—

—were it not for the fact that he is already dropping straight to the ground, her heel having connected squarely with his temple.

He hears all the other sparring partners instantly come to a halt as they realize that one of their number is down. Master Drallig makes his way over, the Force barely rippling in the face of his grave calm. Meanwhile, he can feel Siri's sharp, shrill panic.

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," she says, her eyes impossibly wide as she kneels down next to him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. "I thought you were going to follow my feint, but then I miscalculated and—"

Obi-Wan dizzily shakes his head to clear his muddled thoughts, only to stop immediately when he realizes how much motion makes his head _hurt _right now. He can't for the life of him remember why Siri is apologizing to him or where he even is, so he settles for vacantly patting her on the arm in what he hopes is a sympathetic manner.

"S'okay, Siri," he murmurs. His eyelids are very heavy, which is something that isn't supposed to happen in saber class. If he doesn't keep his eyes open, he's probably going to lose this duel…_wait, is he dueling right now?_

She eyes him with real worry now. "Master Drallig…I don't think he's okay."

Cin Drallig crouches down next to the pair of them. "I quite agree, Initiate Tachi. Padawan Muln, call for the healer ward and tell them to send a medical droid down." He takes a gentle hold of Obi-Wan's chin and Obi-Wan jerks in surprise as the Jedi Master looks deeply into his eyes. "Tell them Padawan Kenobi has a moderate concussion in Training Salle 7."

Obi-Wan spies a concerned-looking Garen over Siri's shoulder and gives him a friendly wave, wondering why everyone looks so somber. The little line between Siri's eyebrows deepens.

"Bant, would you please comm Master Jinn and inform him of his padawan's condition?" Master Drallig continues.

Bant nods in acquiescence, giving a quick bow before disappearing with her comm, placing a comforting hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder for a second as she walks by.

Master Drallig's request to Bant suddenly registers in Obi-Wan's mind, and a flood of memory comes back to him…the mission tomorrow! He can't have a concussion right now; Qui-Gon will never forgive him for delaying them yet _again _from getting back into the field. Not to mention the fact that Qui-Gon already hadn't wanted him to come to class today.

He shakes his head fervently, ignoring the sharp spikes of pain the action sends jolting through his skull. "No!" He protests dizzily. "Don't call Qui-Gon! I'm fine, really!" To prove how fine he is, he weakly pushes himself to his knees, attempting to clamber to his feet.

To his own great surprise, and to the apparent surprise of nobody else in the room, this brilliant plan fails. Fortunately Reeft is there to catch him, his wrinkled face unusually serious.

Bant is back all of a sudden then, a smile on her lips. "Master Jinn commed me before I could comm him, actually," she says, coming to kneel next to Obi-Wan again, her familiar presence comforting. He really wishes everyone else would back up a little bit. "Said he felt the moment Obi-Wan went down through the bond. He'll meet you in the medical ward, Obi," she says. "He seemed worried," she murmurs for his ears only, moving closer.

Obi-Wan fights to keep the stupid smile that is rising in his chest off his face, even though he should be protesting against Qui-Gon being informed of anything surrounding this incident.

But that smile is quickly wiped off his face as the medical droids and Vokara Che herself enter the training salle. Obi-Wan _hates _medical attention more than anything else, but he is too disoriented and weak to do much to fight off Healer Che's treatment. The droids methodically heft him onto a gurney and then he is being rolled away under Che's stern gaze.

"I know you're a troublesome one, Kenobi. But if you're going to get better quickly, you'd best not fight me this time." It is true that he is well-acquainted with Che and her flat, business-like bedside manner. She is a good healer; he just doesn't like healers on principle.

Obi-Wan frowns right back at her, feeling quite daring. But then again, he has a head injury, so he figures any out-of-character behavior can be excused. He would keep glaring in fierce protest, but the motion of the gurney is actually sort of soothing, and his eyelids are still incredibly heavy.

"Don't tell Qui-Gon," is the last thing he manages to murmur before he passes out.

* * *

><p>For a time, all he can hear are muffled voices, as though he is underwater and people are talking on the surface. He immediately recognizes one voice as his master's, and the other one is familiar but he can't put a name to it from his murky place of observation.<p>

"…should be just fine, Master Jinn. He'll need to take it easy for a few days, of course, but there is no lasting brain injury, so you can stop your fretting now," a no-nonsense voice says. _Vokara Che. _He is in the infirmary. Why…

"I wasn't _fretting_," Qui-Gon says, sounding mildly affronted. "It was just hard to tell how severe the injury was over the bond, that's all. Mental connections are notoriously fickle, as you very well know…"

Master Che lets out a noise that Obi-Wan might have called a snort had he thought the stern woman capable of such an undignified form of expression.

"Oh, so you were just pacing a hole in the floor to keep your circulation going, were you?" She says, but she seems to decide to drop the matter. "Garen Muln mentioned that it was Siri Tachi who managed to get a kick in to the head. Any idea why Obi-Wan was so distracted? It's not like him."

Qui-Gon is silent for a long moment, and Obi-Wan almost falls asleep until he hears his master speak again and claws his way back to wakefulness.

"We have both been…distracted as of late. Perhaps myself overly so. I have been neglecting his needs to deal with my own grief over…recent events. But that will change."

There is a surprising amount of empathy in Vokara Che's voice when she speaks. "Yes, I was sorry to hear about the loss of Knight Xanatos. Even though he Turned, I'm sure that must have been hard on you. I remember him getting into a lot of scrapes at this age, just like Obi-Wan." A pause. "But Obi-Wan is not Xanatos, Qui-Gon. You would do well to remember that."

Qui-Gon laughs dryly. "I know that. Force knows, I know that. If there's one thing I've learned from this whole mess, it's that Obi-Wan is unabashedly his own person. He would never Turn, although he will do reckless things for the people and causes he cares about."

Obi-Wan wonders if he is just wishfully dreaming this conversation. Qui-Gon sounds almost…_proud _of him? After all he'd done to mess up their relationship, and Qui-Gon still speaks of him with high regard.

"You would do well to remember that, then," Vokara Che says. "I must attend to some other patients, but you can sit with him for a while if you want. He's drifting between sleep and unconsciousness right now, and I don't think he'll be coherent for a few hours yet."

There is the sound of footsteps and then silence. He feels Qui-Gon draw closer, though he can't reach out and touch their bond with his mind in this state.

"Sleep now, Padawan."

Qui-Gon's voice carries a hint of a Force suggestion, and Obi-Wan doesn't even have the energy to wonder how Qui-Gon had known that he wasn't quite unconscious before he is drifting, weightless, towards sleep.

The last thing he feels is a large, warm hand brushing the hair from his bruised, sore temple, and it's as though something deep within him quiets at the gentle motion. He struggles to hold onto the sensation as he floats away—he has a feeling that he won't remember any of this later, but he wants to remember the fleeting feeling of Qui-Gon's affection forever.

* * *

><p>The next time he awakes, it is much easier to come back to consciousness. His head hurts, but the pain is no longer disorienting and distracting him from every other thought. He swims his way back to reality, struggling to remember all the events that had landed him in the medical ward in the first place—oh, right. He'd been tired in saber class and then Siri Tachi had kicked him in the head.<p>

He smiles as he opens his gritty eyes—Siri is never going to let him live this down, once she gets over her guilt at having accidentally hurt him. He rubs his eyes to clear them and then notices a small figure _bouncing _on the edge of his bed.

He blinks several times, but the image doesn't dissipate, and it takes him a minute to connect the image of the blue-skinned being to the name _Nat. _

"Nat!" He yelps in surprise. The boy looks up from the toy he is playing with, his dark eyes brightening.

"Obi-Wan!" He shouts joyfully, flinging himself upwards to hug Obi-Wan's midsection. "You're alive!" Obi-Wan keeps blinking in confusion, patting Nat's back a few times until the boy sits back up again. It is a very odd way to wake up after being unconscious.

The first thing he notices is that Nat appears to be much healthier—his skin is a much darker, richer blue color; almost the same shade as his father's. And his Force presence is almost completely unclouded, full of pure light and energy.

"Yes, I believe I am," Obi-Wan says slowly. "Nat, why are you here?"

"In the Temple?" Nat resumes his bouncing, and Obi-Wan wills his aching head to stop rattling with the jarring motion. "I'm here with the Jedi so I can get better! Master Che gives me medicine every day and now I hardly ever cough anymore! _And _she's teaching me my letters and says I can go to school soon!"

He somehow manages to say this all in one breath.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better," Obi-Wan says. "Have you seen Master Qui-Gon around at all?" He has a dim memory of Qui-Gon being here earlier perhaps.

Nat nods enthusiastically. "Yes! He's talking to Daddy right now. He looked really worried about you, just like my daddy gets worried about me when I'm sick."

Obi-Wan clears his throat uncomfortably. "Nat, I told you; Qui-Gon is just my master; he's not my—"

The door swings open then and to Obi-Wan's surprise, Bant Eerin steps inside the infirmary room.

"Oh, good," she sighs upon seeing the two of them on the bed. "Are you Nat? Master Che has been looking for you for almost half an hour now."

"Uh-oh," Nat says, his cheerful leg-swinging coming to a halt. He hops down off the bed, face dejected. "I should have told her I was sneaking away to visit Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan fights back a smile. "I think if you had told her you were sneaking away, she wouldn't have let you come. But I'm sure if you apologize and promise not to do it again, she won't be too hard on you."

Nat heaves a heavy sigh, but bravely squares his shoulders and marches down the hallway to face the stern infirmary matron.

Bant grins as she draws closer, taking a seat in the chair next to Obi-Wan's bed. "If he were Force-sensitive, he'd make a good Jedi."

Obi-Wan laughs. "He would run circles around even Master Yoda."

Bant chuckles, but her eyes become serious as she shifts forward in her chair. "How are you, Obi?"

Obi-Wan shifts to sit up against the backboard of the bed, grimacing slightly as his unused muscles groan in protest. "I'm fine, I think. My memory gets a little blurry after Siri kicked me, but it's really nothing more than a headache at this point. Bruised pride and all that."

"Good," Bant says, her wide, Mon Calamari eyes full of emotion. "That was frightening, Obi-Wan. Blows to the temple can easily be fatal. You're lucky it was Siri and not someone bigger and heavier. Although nobody but Siri would ever be able to actually get a hit in on you," she finishes with a grin.

"I'm fine, Bant," he reassures her. He is warmed by Bant's concern—after all they have been through together, especially after Bant's kidnapping by Bruck Chun, she is still his best friend, and he knows that they have the kind of friendship that will last a lifetime. Just like Qui-Gon's friendship with Master Tahl. Speaking of which…

"Hey, how are things going with Master Uvain? I feel bad that I haven't asked you before." In dealing with his nightmares and grief and worry, he has been neglectful of his friendship with Bant, who had been accepted as Tahl's padawan after Bruck Chun's death.

Bant smiles, although she looks slightly troubled. "Things are good, but she's actually out on a mission alone right now. I think she fears I'm too young to really help her on most of her missions. It might just take some time…"

They chat for the next fifteen or twenty minutes or so about Bant's apprenticeship and the gossip amongst their friends. Garen had left yesterday for a mission all the way to the Outer Rim, and isn't expected back for a few months. Word of Siri's fighting prowess has spread through the Temple, and rumor has it that a few of the Masters are considering the intense, high-spirited twelve-year-old as a potential padawan.

Obi-Wan is embarrassed that his mishap with Siri is news around the Temple, but happy for the blond girl. Even though she doesn't like him, he can freely admit that she will make a fine Knight one day.

Eventually his eyelids grow heavy, and he begins drifting in and out of the conversation with Bant, who doesn't seem offended. He vaguely wonders where Qui-Gon is—he can feel his master's presence through their bond and senses that he is somewhere nearby. Maybe he is still chatting with Pharrin. For some odd reason, Obi-Wan has the brief, fleeting wish that the older Jedi could be here right now, to sit beside him as he sleeps. It is a selfish wish—Qui-Gon has much better things to do besides watching his injured padawan sleep. But he wants it all the same, and he doesn't know where this selfishness comes from.

"Bant," he says suddenly, interrupting Bant's low, soothing voice telling him a story about her first mission with Tahl.

He thinks of some of the comments Nat has made to him comparing Qui-Gon to Pharrin. "Bant, do you remember your family at all? Like, your family from before you came to the Temple?"

Bant is quiet for a long moment. "I do, actually. I didn't come to the Temple until I was almost four—much later than many others. It's not a very clear memory. But I remember my parents and my older sister."

"What were they like?" Obi-Wan asks, his eyes closed now. He strains to remember something; _anything_ from his pre-Temple past, but there is nothing there except a vague memory of standing in a lush green meadow next to a chubby baby with ginger hair, who had perhaps been called Owen_. His little brother_. The more he tries to focus and sharpen the memory, the further and further it slips away from his mind. He wonders if his parents ever think about him here at the Temple, growing up to be a Jedi Knight. He wonders if Owen, who would probably be about twelve now, even knows that he had had an older brother once.

"They were amazing," Bant says reverently. Obi-Wan is honored that she is choosing to share such a personal memory with him. "My mother used to rock me to sleep at night, and she'd sing to my sister and me as we did the cooking and cleaning. My father would hold me whenever I felt sick, and he'd hold my hand when we went swimming. I cried for days when I left them."

Something about the last part of Bant's memory strikes him. _Father. _

A terrible realization slowly dawns on him. This reason, if true, would explain why he has been having this strange, unnamed _wanting _feeling whenever he thinks about his broken relationship with Qui-Gon.

He doesn't just want his master back; doesn't simply want their bond to return to its original strength and continue deepening. And he isn't content with wanting Qui-Gon to merely teach him and guide him towards Knighthood…no, he wants more. He wants Qui-Gon to care about him as much as he cares about Qui-Gon.

In short, he wants a father.

Because truth be told, he's felt this way before—he recalls the strange swooping feeling he'd had in the pit of his stomach after watching Nat and Pharrin interact last month, for example. Perhaps it's been building over the entire course of his relationship with Qui-Gon the past year and he hasn't noticed.

It's not an unfamiliar feeling; wanting Qui-Gon to protect him and comfort him just by being there. It's just that he has never had a name for it until now.

It all makes perfect sense now—he has always been too emotional; too prone to fear and attachment. It was what had made Qui-Gon originally reject him as a padawan the first time he'd seen Obi-Wan fight Bruck. And now he has gone and somehow attached himself to the one person who wants nothing more than to hold him at arm's length for the rest of their time together.

Because if he knows one thing, it's that Qui-Gon has been betrayed and hurt by padawans too many times in the past. There's no telling if he'll ever really recover from the betrayal and loss of Xanatos. And there's absolutely no way he'd ever want to draw Obi-Wan closer than anything resembling a perfunctory master-padawan relationship.

_Stupid, stupid Obi-Wan. It's going to take a lot of meditation and releasing feelings into the Force to get over this. _

"…Obi-Wan? Are you okay? You look like you're in pain; do you want me to call Master Che?" Bant's worried voice breaks into his thoughts.

"No," Obi-Wan says dimly, laying an urgent hand on Bant's forearm. "No, don't call anyone. I'm fine…I just…" he takes a deep breath, still startled by the depth of his sudden realization. "Sithspit," he mutters darkly. "Bant, I…I think I wish Qui-Gon were my father."

To his great surprise, Bant laughs. "Oh, is that all? I could have told you that myself, Obi-Wan."

Eying her with disbelief, Obi-Wan waits for an explanation.

"I mean, _really_, Obi-Wan—everyone knows that you and Master Jinn have one of the strongest bonds the Order has seen in recent history. It's no wonder you look up to him and want him to care about you."

"Oh, no," Obi-Wan says, panic beginning to creep into his emotions. "Bant, you don't think Qui-Gon _knows _that I feel this way, do you?"

Bant laughs again. "I don't know, Obi! Maybe you could actually _talk _to him about it, instead of internalizing it and worrying about it like I'm sure you want to do."

Obi-Wan shudders at the thought of actually telling his master any of this emotional nonsense. "Yeah, maybe, Bant," he says, although they both know that he will never actually bring the matter up with Qui-Gon of his own volition.

Shaking her head in fond exasperation, Bant stands, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Look, I should go. I can tell that you have a lot to think about, and you can barely keep your eyes open. But feel better soon, okay? Comm me when you're out of here and we'll take a walk around the gardens."

Obi-Wan nods his heavy head, murmuring a quiet goodbye before sinking back down against the coolness of his pillows. He is glad for the sudden exhaustion that sweeps over him. He doesn't _want _to think about this mess, because no matter how many scenarios he plays out in his mind, none of them end happily.

He is too tired to seek the healing power of meditation, but he reaches into his pocket out of habit, relieved to find the stone that Qui-Gon had given him for his thirteenth life-day gift there. It warms to his touch and he clutches it in his fingers, willing his thoughts to quiet and his body to calm and center itself.

_There is no emotion, there is peace. _

Perhaps it means something that Qui-Gon, who had had three padawans, had chosen to give this stone to Obi-Wan and not his first two apprentices. Perhaps it meant that he was special to Qui-Gon.

But then again, maybe not.

He drifts to sleep at some point, his fingers still clenched tightly around the Force rock, and his heart a tumultuous storm of longing and fear.

* * *

><p><em>Cerasi's face haunts him. She is dying, bleeding out slowly right in front of him. <em>

_ "Why didn't you save me, Obi-Wan?! This is all your fault!" She cries, her eyes full of hate and accusation. _

_ Her face morphs into Bruck Chun, dangling over a precipice; about to fall to his death. _

_ "It's your fault, Obi-Wan! You could have saved me. You should have tried harder!" _

_ He is gasping for air, the pain in his heart robbing his lungs of the ability to function. My fault, my fault, my fault…_

"Obi-Wan!" A sharp voice is saying in his ear. He becomes aware of strong hands gripping his biceps, shaking him lightly. "Obi-Wan, wake up!" The voice sounds worried, but Obi-Wan doesn't know why.

He is confused about where he is and what is happening—Cerasi and Bruck's faces still dance and swim angrily before his eyes, but he is also unmistakably aware of Qui-Gon's familiar presence. His breathing begins to calm and slow as he climbs back to wakefulness. Things can't be _too _bad if Qui-Gon is here, right?

"That's it," Qui-Gon's voice says near his ear. One of the large hands leaves his left bicep and comes up to cup Obi-Wan's cheek lightly. "Open your eyes, Padawan. It was just a dream. You're safe."

Obi-Wan struggles to comply, lifting leaden eyelids. His head aches and he is exhausted. He doesn't immediately recognize his surroundings, and it takes him a long moment to remember that he is in the infirmary, where he had fallen asleep after talking to Bant.

Qui-Gon reaches out to him over their bond, offering warmth and comfort; soothing the ragged edges of his hysteria and terror over the nightmare. Obi-Wan sighs in relief at the mental touch, allowing Qui-Gon's strength to infuse his troubled thoughts with peace.

Until he jerks back to full awareness, suddenly cognizant of how childish and needy he is being; crying out over dreams and latching onto Qui-Gon's mental comfort like a youngling in the crèche! It only becomes worse when he remembers what he and Bant had discussed before she had left.

Sensing his mental turbulence, Qui-Gon respectfully withdraws, although his hand remains steadfast on Obi-Wan's cheek for a moment longer.

For a while, Obi-Wan simply focuses on _breathing. _In, out. In, out. He eventually drops into a sort of light meditation, tapping into the healing current of the Force as he does every night to soothe himself when he wakes up from his nightmares.

Eventually, the fear and guilt and other negative emotions associated with the dream are gone, released back into the Force. All that is left is embarrassment, and he bites his lip awkwardly, avoiding Qui-Gon's gaze.

Qui-Gon sits back in the chair next to the infirmary bed, his eyes pensive.

"You seem like you have a lot of practice calming yourself down after nightmares," he remarks neutrally.

Obi-Wan shrugs, hunching his shoulders and picking at a loose thread on the thin, firmly-starched infirmary blanket.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon says. Obi-Wan looks up, and is surprised to see genuine sadness in his master's eyes. "You've been having nightmares ever since our return from Telos, haven't you?"

It isn't a question; not really.

So Obi-Wan nods slowly, looking back down at the blanket.

Qui-Gon lets out a weary sigh, sort of the way the crèche master would always sigh when one of his charges was ill or injured. "I owe you an apology, Padawan." Obi-Wan's head jerks up at _that—_it seems like Qui-Gon _never _makes mistakes. "I know that I have been distant as of late. The loss of Xanatos has been…difficult, and I have buried myself in my own grief without giving any regard to what you yourself have been dealing with. I should have seen you were struggling with nightmares much sooner."

Obi-Wan swallows thickly. "I didn't want to bother you, Master. I can handle these dreams on my own, honestly. They're not—"

"Not _what,_ Padawan?" Qui-Gon interjects sternly. "They're not affecting you? Master Che said her scans revealed that you are significantly sleep-deprived, and it isn't like you to be distracted during saber class."

Obi-Wan shrugs helplessly. "It didn't seem that bad at the time. Like I said, Master, I can deal with the dreams—"

Qui-Gon leans forward, his leonine features intent. "But you shouldn't _have to, _Obi-Wan. It's my job as your master to guide you through trying times like this, but I can't help if I don't know what is wrong. As I said before, it was my own fault that I was being inattentive to you. But no longer. We will face these nightmares together, Padawan."

"I'm sorry about getting hurt and delaying our mission," Obi-Wan says, his voice small.

"That is the _least _of my concerns, Padawan," Qui-Gon says. "Your wellbeing is far more important to me than any mission. We will leave the Temple when Master Che says that you are fit for a mission, and no sooner."

Obi-Wan throat hurts with emotion. It's no wonder he feels so confused about his relationship with his master when the older man is so compassionate and understanding at the times that Obi-Wan least expects it!

"Sleep now, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon instructs him. He can hear the Force suggestion quite loudly in his master's voice this time, and struggles to fight it. "I will stay with you."

Obi-Wan's eyes drift shut again. Suddenly sleep doesn't seem like such a bad idea—it's not like he has anywhere to be, after all.

"Promise?" He murmurs quietly, just wanting to be certain.

"I promise. Rest now." Qui-Gon's voice is a slow rumble from the bedside, and Obi-Wan drifts away towards slumber, his throat still oddly tight. He is not afraid of having another nightmare tonight; not with Qui-Gon at his side.

He doesn't feel the single tear that slips out of his closed eye and rolls down his cheek.

Nor does he feel the warm hand that brushes it away and pulls the blankets up over his shoulders, tucking him in and standing guard over him for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>The next time he awakes, morning sunlight streams through the window, and Qui-Gon is lacing up his boots in the chair next to Obi-Wan's bed.<p>

"I'm sorry to leave you, Padawan," he says. "I need to meet with the Council to reschedule our mission. But I hear you have a visitor who will keep you company in the meantime." There is a frighteningly mischievous glint in his eye.

"Who?" Obi-Wan asks curiously, slightly alarmed.

"Siri Tachi," Qui-Gon says casually, his mouth curved upward on one end.

"_Master_," Obi-Wan groans.

"What? I haven't said anything but her name. You seem very defensive, Padawan."

"It's the _way_ you said it," Obi-Wan protests sternly, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. He knows Qui-Gon is laughing at him. It's true that Siri is pretty and that many of his agemates are interested in her, but she doesn't like him, and he doesn't really like her all that much either. He just enjoys sparring with her and arguing with her. She's an interesting person. That's all, of course.

"My apologies, sensitive Padawan of mine," Qui-Gon says as he stands, surprising Obi-Wan by placing an affectionate hand on his head briefly as Siri Tachi knocks on the infirmary door. "I will see you this afternoon."

It isn't until Obi-Wan goes to the fresher after Siri leaves that he realizes that his padawan braid had somehow been looped around his ear the entire time Siri was there. He groans in embarrassment as he rights it, sure that Qui-Gon's gesture as he'd left is the responsible party for his hairdo.

As revenge, he vows to be particularly difficult and recalcitrant as he spends the next week recuperating in their quarters.

* * *

><p><strong>Not a very action-packed chapter, but I think that Obi-Wan needed to have some of these conversationsrevelations. The next one will be an actual mission, and we'll get to see them actually doing Jedi stuff haha**

**Thanks for reading! Feedback is very much appreciated :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**This one takes place about a week or so after chapter 2. **

**Disclaimer: Still don't own anything. Except I finally got my copy of the first few JA books and am very excitedly re-reading them. **

* * *

><p>The Council is evil. There is no doubt about it—they are <em>trying <em>to kill Obi-Wan.

Even Qui-Gon, who is all about defying the bounds of conventional practices, seems startled by the Council's most recent plot.

"You want us to pose as father and son…at a glorified children's carnival?"

"Noted and not appreciated, your skepticism is, Master Jinn," Yoda croaks sternly from his seat. Personally, Obi-Wan is just glad that Qui-Gon is brave enough to ask questions like that in front of the Council so that he doesn't have to risk Master Yoda's wrath by asking himself.

_Father and son. _Honestly, of all the missions they could have chosen for Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's first official mission back together as master and padawan, it had to be this one. Somewhere out there, the Force is laughing at him.

"The Annual Solstice Festival is far more than a carnival, Master Jinn," Mace Windu says reprovingly. "As you would know had you read the notes that the Council sent you ahead of time. Padawan Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan nervously clears his throat. "The Summer Solstice Festival has been an annual event on the planet of Andros X for nearly seven centuries now. Androxian society places an extremely high value on family and the nurturing of the young. During the peak of the warm season each year at this event, families leave the cities and convene in the wilderness for a week, focusing on deepening the affection they have for one another away from the busyness of everyday life." He recites this all very quickly, ignoring the stare-down that Qui-Gon and Mace Windu are having. He tries not to roll his eyes at the two of them—they have been friends since childhood, but while Mace Windu reveres the solemnity of the council, Qui-Gon rejects their every attempt to call him and his rebellious ways to order.

"Very good, Padawan Kenobi," Ki Adi Mundi speaks up when it is clear that Mace Windu and Qui-Gon are locked in some sort of immature stalemate.

"I'm glad that Padawan Kenobi can be bothered with doing his assigned reading, unlike some people," Mace says neutrally, fixing Qui-Gon with a particularly piercing stare. Obi-Wan gives in and rolls his eyes anyway, studiously avoiding Qui-Gon's gaze, which is one of mild betrayal. He'd been bored; stuck lying on the couch for nearly a week recovering from his concussion! So what if he'd decided to get a little ahead in his schoolwork and other assignments?

"Over the past year, several attempts have been made on the prince of Andros' life, and the king and queen are fearful that another attack is imminent," Ki Adi Mundi speaks up, his tone making it clear that they should all move on. "They do not know who is trying to dispatch with Prince Aldo's life, but they received a threatening letter hinting that something was going to happen at this year's event, and have requested Jedi help."

"Go disguised as father and son, you must," Master Yoda speaks up. "If the perpetrator knows Jedi are there, catch him you will not."

Obi-Wan bites back the question brewing on the tip of his tongue—why the two of them? It is true that he and Qui-Gon both share a relatively similar hair and eye color, but there are plenty of other same-species master-apprentice teams at the Temple that could easily pose as parent and child to infiltrate the family event. This is exactly the kind of mission that he _doesn't _want right now—he is already incredibly confused about his feelings regarding his relationship with Qui-Gon, and to pose as father and son will surely dredge up a lot of emotions that he is not prepared to deal with.

Perhaps Yoda can sense his discomfort and internal tumult, because he looks straight at Obi-Wan as he speaks. "Confused you are, Padawan Kenobi. Clarity, this mission will bring you, perhaps."

Obi-Wan instantly throws up mental shields before Qui-Gon can sense any of his thoughts. He is careful to shield lightly enough that Qui-Gon won't be suspicious as to why Obi-Wan is forcibly locking him out, but firmly enough that none of his fears and anxieties creep through. He knows that he must trust in Master Yoda's guidance, but it just seems cruel that he will be playing at the one thing he wants more than anything for this mission, but that none of it will be real. He will pretend that Qui-Gon is his father, and then will have to come back to the Temple and somehow go back to maintaining his emotional distance from the older man.

Maybe he is just being paranoid—maybe it is all coincidence that he and Qui-Gon have been chosen for this mission. But in his heart, he knows otherwise as he looks into Master Yoda's wise, timeless eyes. He takes a deep, calming breath and allows the Force to settle into his bones, offering him wisdom.

_This is a test, Obi-Wan, _he tells himself. _You must confront these feelings head on, and deal with them as they come. _He squares his shoulders, nodding in understanding and acceptance to Master Yoda. _There is no emotion, there is peace._ At his side, Qui-Gon is eying the exchange between Yoda and Obi-Wan with curiosity, but Obi-Wan keeps facing forward.

"Depart tomorrow, you will," Master Yoda says, a tone of finality in his voice. And really, that is all there is to it, once Master Yoda has given his word on any matter. They will go to Andros X, and one way or another, they'll get back into the field and test their renewed bond.

* * *

><p>Obi-Wan knows that they are supposed to slip into their roles for the mission the moment the step foot on the ship heading to Andros X, but he still finds it difficult to shift into son-mode, mostly because he has no frame of reference for how to act like a child, much less the child<em> of <em>someone. He concentrates on simply walking right next to Qui-Gon, instead of slightly behind and to the left as is customary of padawans. He feels naked without his saber at his belt—he and Qui-Gon still have them tucked away, of course, but they cannot openly display their status as Jedi for this mission.

As they board the commercial cruiser for the flight to Andros X, Obi-Wan notices many other passengers wearing the customary clothing of Androxians—families returning to their home planet for the Solstice Festival, no doubt. He pulls at his uncomfortable new collar and watches the way that the Androxian children interact with their parents with fascination as they stand in the line to have their tickets checked—should he stomp his foot and refuse to carry the extra bags, as he sees another boy about his age do?

These other, normal children are so…emotionally open with their parents. From the moment Jedi toddlers arrive at the Temple, they have their tempers and sense of self-absorption trained out of their system. But everywhere he looks now, he sees children who are completely, one hundred percent themselves with their harried, weary parents. If they are upset, they don't hesitate to show it. Hungry; and they whine about it. Tired; and they grumble and whine about the long flight.

_What would it be like to be a normal child?_

"Ben? Your ticket," his master's voice gently pulls him from his musings. That's right_—_he is Ben now, for the duration of this mission.

Reminding himself to listen for the name 'Ben' instead of 'Obi-Wan', he pulls his crumpled ticket from his pocket and hands it to Qui-Gon. His master raises an eyebrow at the careless treatment of the paper stub—Obi-Wan is notoriously the more fastidious of the two of them—but Obi-Wan merely smiles up at the older man, a hint of a smirk in the curve of his mouth.

_"Just doing my best to fit into my role as Ben for the mission, Master," _he innocently sends along their bond.

_"Ah, of course, Padawan," _Qui-Gon returns in a manner that suggests that he is not fooled by Obi-Wan's attempt at angelic dimpling.

They get their tickets stamped and are assigned their cabin, which they are sharing with another family. Obi-Wan pulls at his uncomfortable collar as he steps inside the cramped room, throwing his bag up on the top bunk of the two-tiered sleeping couch he and his master have been assigned to. Fortunately the journey is only twenty-four hours, so they won't be stuck in these small quarters for long, but at the moment it feels like the time will be an eternity.

The woman they are sharing with has four young children—two girls and two boys, ranging in age from about seven to infancy. She smiles at them apologetically as she distributes packets of crackers and juice to the squirming, restless children, who are in the midst of a very enthusiastic and ear-shatteringly noisy game of sabacc.

"My name is Lie-Na," the woman says loudly over her three older children, all of whom are fighting over the wild card. "Sorry about the noise—they've been up since very early this morning, so I'm sure they'll crash as soon as we take off."

"Not to worry," Qui-Gon speaks up easily. "I remember travelling with young Ben here when he was that age. I swear to this day that that's when my hair began graying. My name is Qui Jinnson, by the way."

The two 'parents' shake hands and it takes all of Obi-Wan's Jedi training to maintain his uninterested-preteen façade and not gape in amazement. He'd always known that Qui-Gon was a great actor—he's seen the man in action on many missions before, but he is still caught off guard by how naturally Qui-Gon slips into his role as the father of Ben. He even offers to hold the baby for a bit, and he and Lie-Na sit together at the small table, drinking tea and chatting easily about the upcoming Solstice celebrations—Lie-Na's husband is meeting the family at the space port on Andros.

Obi-Wan hovers uncertainly for a moment, torn between grabbing a datapad and reading on his bunk, or trying to interact with their cabinmates, until Qui-Gon looks up at him, his smile reassuring.

"_Why don't you try and befriend the younglings, Padawan? Remember that you are still a child in spite of all your Jedi training otherwise, and that there is no shame in play."_

Obi-Wan feels mild indignation over being labelled as a child—he is almost fourteen!—but he reluctantly sits down next to the children, tentatively introducing himself as Ben.

They all seem amazed that an older boy actually wants to play cards with him, and the two boys and the little girl quickly deal him in, each claiming that he should be on their team. The first hand Obi-Wan feels somewhat awkward; unsure of how to act around these loud, fierce little beings. But before he knows it, he gets drawn into the game; the motion of the take-off and the friendly chatter of the adults behind them fading into background noise.

Eventually, he teams up with the little girl, who is called Talia, and the two of them play a no-holds-barred round against the boys, Tran and Treyn. Talia has a terrible poker face and almost gives their hand away every single time, but Obi-Wan, normally very competitive, doesn't really care. They are just playing for fun, and he is learning some good new Androxian insults from the boys.

As time wears on, Obi-Wan actually catches himself laughing alongside the Na children as Talia blatantly cheats, stealing cards from her older brothers, who pretend to not understand why they are suddenly losing so badly.

He looks up mid-laugh and is startled to see Qui-Gon watching him with a quiet smile. Lie-Na has the same look on her face as she looks proudly upon her children, who are coming down off their travel-induced high and are beginning to grow sleepy.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Obi-Wan sobers up and cleans up the cards while the Na children wash their hands and faces and crawl into the bottom bunk of the two beds their mother had booked for them; legs and arms intertwined and sprawled over one another as they drift towards naptime in one big, happy mess.

Shaking his head as he clears the table, he reflects on his inattentiveness. He shouldn't have allowed himself to get so distracted—he hadn't thought of the mission a single time while he'd been playing, and he could have been using the time to learn important cultural information about Andros X and the Solstice Festival from the Na children. Normally focus has never been a problem for him on missions, and he can't imagine what had come over him this afternoon.

_"You can take a nap too, Padawan, if you're tired," _Qui-Gon sends across their dormant bond, a hint of a teasing grin in the words. Qui-Gon knows perfectly well that Obi-Wan will refuse to take a nap, not wanting to be seen as a child.

And Obi-Wan does refuse, but not for the reason Qui-Gon thinks he will.

_"No. I don't want to have nightmares while we're sharing a room with other people."_

The bond goes silent and apologetic. _"While I cannot force you to sleep, Obi-Wan, I hope that you realize that you have nothing to fear here. I told Lie-Na of our cover story that the Council gave us, and she believes you are still mourning the death of your mother. She will not be surprised if you have nightmares."_

Obi-Wan shrugs minutely, still not fully committed to sleeping at all during the 24 hour flight. He and Qui-Gon don't usually talk about the nightmares during the daytime, although he can't deny that Qui-Gon _has _been a big help ever since his nightmare in the medical ward the week before.

Since then, Qui-Gon has been up almost every night, shaking Obi-Wan out of his dreams and meditating with him until he is calm enough to return to sleep. Each night he asks Obi-Wan to share what his nightmare is about. Some nights Obi-Wan does; and some nights he doesn't. Qui-Gon never presses him, only offers a listening ear and his warm presence in the Force.

And to tell the truth, it is slowly helping. He isn't as afraid when he awakes anymore, beginning to trust that Qui-Gon will be right there waiting to help him calm down again. But he still isn't sure if he wants to risk sleeping in front of the Na's. As though reading his mind, Qui-Gon presses gently through their bond.

"_Trust me, Obi-Wan. You should sleep. I will be here."_

Obi-Wan _is _tired.

Telling himself that it's just because he has nothing better to do on this journey, he kicks off his boots.

"I'm going to lay down for a while, Father," he says evenly, as though it is no big deal; as though it isn't the first time in his memory that he has ever actually addressed someone by that name.

"I'll wake you for evening meal, Ben," Qui-Gon says, a hint of pride flowing over the bond.

And as Obi-Wan lays on his mattress and tries to center himself before sleep, he can't help but admit to himself that the afternoon had been sort of…nice; just playing cards and not worrying about missions or the Council or the aftermath of Melida/Daan.

As he drifts off to sleep, his last thought is that maybe life as Ben isn't so bad after all.

* * *

><p>Andros X is beautiful. It makes Obi-Wan wonder what the other planets in the system are like if just this one is like this.<p>

Lush and green, with sprawling hills and roving forests and steel-tipped mountains looming in the distance, it is breathtaking. Qui-Gon seems like a man who has just taken his first breath of air after nearly drowning, so centered is he in the Living Force here. Obi-Wan's strength lies in the Unifying Force, but he still appreciates the peace and tranquility of Andros X's beauty.

After they land at the space port, there is a two day hike out to the campsite. The council and the royal family had worked together to make sure that Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had gotten a campsite right next to the royal family, so that they could be as close as possible to protect Aldo.

It is just the two of them on the hike out, and it is quite nice having time to talk about non-Temple related things with his master. With each hour they spend together, the layers and walls that Obi-Wan has built up since Melida/Daan—and even before, to be honest, when he'd first become Qui-Gon's apprentice and sensed that the older man wasn't looking for a deep personal connection with his padawan—crumble and fall down a little more.

They pass many other families making the trek towards the mountains, and while friendly greetings are always exchanged, people keep to themselves, choosing to focus on their families in preparation for the week.

Obi-Wan quickly gets used to Qui-Gon calling him 'Ben', and it is becoming much easier to call his master 'Father' without overthinking it or having an existential crisis. He is currently working on focusing on "living in the moment," as Qui-Gon always tells him to do.

When they finally arrive at the campsite, Obi-Wan is more than ready for a good meal and a long rest. He will sleep well tonight, that's for sure. But he obligingly rolls up his sleeves and helps Qui-Gon pitch their small two-man tent. Then Qui-Gon pulls two mysterious-looking contraptions out of his pack. When he unfolds them, they look like walking sticks with strings and hooks attached to them.

"Fishing, Ben. It's a good way to catch food, and for many non-Force-sensitive beings, it's an activity quite similar to our meditations."

So they go fishing in the nearby creek, in spite of the fact that Obi-Wan finds the whole premise very odd. Qui-Gon puts real live worms on the hooks, chuckling with amusement at Obi-Wan's disgusted expression. Then he shows Obi-Wan how to cast the line, and the two of them sit with their fishing poles on a log, dangling bare feet into the ice cold creek water. It is a very un-Jedi-like activity, but it feels right somehow, sitting here and enjoying the peaceful way the sunlight plays over the trees with his master.

After an eternity of companionable silence—Obi-Wan has almost slipped into a meditative trance—he feels a sudden jerking on his pole.

"Father!" He exclaims, grabbing Qui-Gon's arm. "I think I've got something!" He is so captivated by the excitement of the moment; the thrill of the catch after so much time spent waiting, that it takes him a minute to realize that he had just called Qui-Gon 'father' without thinking about it at all. It had just slipped out; as though it were the most natural thing in the world after only two days of playing this role.

He is so caught off guard that he almost drops the pole, but Qui-Gon, not reacting at all to Obi-Wan's spontaneous use of the word 'father' in private conversation, grabs the pole with one hand and guides Obi-Wan through reeling the fish in.

It is quite ugly—all brown and googly-eyed—but Obi-Wan is amazed that he had actually caught it.

"I can tell that you've spent almost your entire life on Coruscant," Qui-Gon laughs at Obi-Wan's wonderment, although he seems pleased that Obi-Wan is so proud of his catch.

"Now we put it back," Qui-Gon says, and he sets about gently untangling the hook from the fish, using the Force to heal the wound and carefully tossing the scaly body back into the water.

"What was the point, then?" Obi-Wan asks, brow crinkled.

"We could have eaten it if we needed the food, but we have rations back at the camp," Qui-Gon explains. "Otherwise, fishing is an exercise in patience. I know that you are frustrated with yourself and your seeming inability to recover from these nightmares, but I have already seen a lot of progress in just the past week. You will get there, but you must have patience."

Obi-Wan nods respectfully, always honored when Qui-Gon chooses to share his somewhat unconventional wisdom with Obi-Wan.

"Hey, that was a good catch!" A friendly voice calls from the other side of the pond. Obi-Wan looks up to see a handsome, dark-haired boy of about sixteen emerging from the thicket, carrying his own fishing pole. "Mind if I cast near you two? They seem to be biting over here."

"By all means," Qui-Gon says politely. "We were just finishing up, anyway. Ben, I am going to go make us some supper. You're welcome to stay down here if you want in the meantime."

Qui-Gon's smile says that he knows something that Obi-Wan doesn't. Never one to be left in the dark, Obi-Wan nods. "I'll stay, Father. If you don't mind the company, that is," he says to the newcomer.

"No, no, of course not…Ben, was it?"

"Pleased to meet you," Obi-Wan says, holding out his hand to shake.

"Likewise. My name is Aldo, by the way," the young man says, expertly casting his line, missing the way Obi-Wan's eyes widen slightly in understanding. This is the prince of Andros X, and he is very different from what Obi-Wan had imagined.

"Man, I love fishing. Truly no better feeling in the galaxy, eh? It's my favorite hobby," Aldo says, grinning sidelong at Obi-Wan. Suddenly Qui-Gon's random idea for the fishing excursion makes a lot more sense.

Turns out Qui-Gon _had _read the informational datapads about the royal family after all.

* * *

><p>Obi-Wan feels great that night when he makes it back to the tent that night. He had spent most of the evening with Aldo, befriending the older boy and trying to get as much information out of him about the threats on his life without seeming obvious or threatening himself. They had eaten like royalty—ha!—in the tent with the king and queen, who were also very well-adjusted and normal-seeming people like Aldo.<p>

Now his belly is full, and he is warm and content to just lie on his bedroll until the sun comes up in the morning.

But Qui-Gon has other ideas, and he lapses back into master-mode.

"Sorry, Padawan, but I need information while it's still fresh in your mind," Qui-Gon says, seeming genuinely disappointed to have to disturb Obi-Wan's unusually peaceful state.

Obi-Wan groans and pushes himself to sit up, Jedi training kicking in. "What do you want to know?" He asks, rubbing at his eyes.

"Did he say anything that might be of use? Does he have security on him right now? If he's not being guarded, we will have to subtly take turns taking watch over him for the rest of our time here."

"He has a whole entourage protecting him," Obi-Wan explains. "But you never know, one of the bodyguards could actually be the one trying to kill Aldo."

"Did anyone seem suspicious?" Qui-Gon asks.

"Well, the king's younger brother, Johan, seems quite evil, actually. But I feel like that would be far too obvious for him to be the guilty party. He certainly has motive to kill the heir to the throne, but surely everyone would suspect him if Aldo actually died," Obi-Wan reasons between two yawns.

Qui-Gon hums pensively. "Well, we'll just make sure that one of us is always near him for the remainder of our time here."

"M'kay, Fath—Master," Obi-Wan mumbles, already half-asleep. He can hear the crackle of nearby campfires; the chirping of insects that Qui-Gon had called 'crickets'; the sound of the wind whispering through the trees.

He drifts off to sleep with a smile, but little does he know, his tranquility will not last the whole night through.

* * *

><p><em>Screaming. <em>

It takes Obi-Wan a minute to realize that the piercing, deafening noise that is splitting the night is his own screams; that _he_ is the one howling like a wounded animal. The noise cuts off as he comes to wakefulness; shooting up into a seated position, and he is left gasping for breath through his sore throat, tasting salty tears on his lips.

He swallows thickly and wraps his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. After a moment, he becomes aware of a pair of hands lying heavily on his shoulders and a deep voice murmuring in his ear.

As his breathing slowly eases and calms, Qui-Gon's Force presence embraces Obi-Wan's grief-ravaged mind, warmly huddling over him until the coldness and terror of the dream dissipate, leaving only exhaustion and a sort of hollow numbness.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon says several long minutes later, when Obi-Wan's breathing is almost regular again. "What was that?"

Obi-Wan swipes at his eyes, pushing out slightly with the Force. He finds that their small tent is ensconced in a sort of bubble—probably Qui-Gon shielding the noise of Obi-Wan's caterwauling from the rest of the camp. He heaves a shuddery sigh. "Just a nightmare, Master."

A hand lifts his chin so that he is looking into Qui-Gon's eyes, which are narrowed and luminous in the dark. The older Jedi looks genuinely worried; a rarity.

"That was no ordinary dream, Padawan. It took me almost five minutes to rouse you and you were…calling out to me in your sleep. I've never heard you make a single sound during a nightmare before," Qui-Gon says. Obi-Wan holds back a groan— he doesn't even _want_ to know what he had said in the midst of his dream. Hopefully he had called out for his master and not for his father.

He pulls his chin away from Qui-Gon's grip and doesn't answer, flooded anew with panic as he remembers the contents of the nightmare.

"It was a vision, wasn't it?"

Being gifted in the Unifying Force means that Obi-Wan occasionally has visions of things that may one day come to pass. This particular one had been fleeting, but horrible—he had found himself at about the age of 25, standing in front of a funeral pyre with a small boy who was incredibly strong in the Force at his side. And then when he'd looked at the pyre it had been…Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan can only manage a nod, burying his face in his knees.

"It was something to do with me, wasn't it?" Qui-Gon presses further, his voice calm and gentle.

Silence.

Qui-Gon sighs. "Padawan, you know that I can't understand what it's like for you to have visions like this; my bond with the Force is different. But I will say this: we must live in the moment and not allow our fear of things that could come to pass in the future take over our lives. One day I will die, just like every other living thing, whether it be tomorrow or in forty years. There is nothing that can be done to change that fact, and until then, I can only do my best to follow the will of the Force."

Obi-Wan's breath hitches. "I don't want you to die!" He chokes out tremulously.

He can feel Qui-Gon's surprise at the depth of Obi-Wan's anguish, but the older man does something next that is even more surprising to Obi-Wan. He wraps a strong arm around Obi-Wan's silently shaking shoulders and they stay like that for a long moment.

Obi-Wan just focuses on the steady rhythm of Qui-Gon's heartbeat, reminding himself that his master is alive and well, and that his vision may never actually come to fruition. The future is a notoriously fickle business, as Ki Adi Mundi had once told Obi-Wan's class of Initiates.

When they break apart, Obi-Wan tries not to feel too embarrassed—while Qui-Gon has never withheld affection from Obi-Wan, he has never been particularly prone to physical gestures beyond a hand on the shoulder. Particularly in the case of Obi-Wan's nightmares, Qui-Gon has always been very calm and rational, talking him through the fear with words and meditation and not gestures of coddling. But after such an emotionally charged dream, Obi-Wan doesn't want just words.

And Ben's father would hug him after a nightmare, Obi-Wan reasons.

Desperately needing mental clarity, Obi-Wan sits on his bedroll in a meditative pose, retreating into the Force and desperately seeking at least a small shred of peace.

Neither he nor Qui-Gon sleep the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>The days quickly slip by, and the Solstice Festival begins in earnest. More and more families flood their campsite, and an unofficial little market is set up several rows of tents away from their own campground.<p>

Obi-Wan spends most of his time with Aldo and his family, trying to keep a careful eye to make sure that the prince is not in danger. Meanwhile, Qui-Gon privately reveals to the king and queen that he and Obi-Wan are the Jedi that they had requested. The royals don't want Aldo to know how seriously his life may be in danger, and so they heartily approve of Obi-Wan's innocent friendship with the boy.

Aldo is not hard to be friends with, however. They go fishing several times and ramble through the woods, play-fighting and swimming in the creek. Obi-Wan wonders if this is what life would be like if he lived with Owen.

On their fourth afternoon there, Obi-Wan and Aldo sit sharing lunch next to a small pond.

"Your father, Ben…he seems very sad sometimes," Aldo remarks.

Obi-Wan is in a very 'Ben'-ish mood today. So he answers as Ben would. "Yes, he still has a very hard time dealing with Mother's death, even though it was almost three years ago. And not to mention…well, I'm not supposed to talk about it. But my older brother, Xanatos, got into some trouble and found himself on the wrong side of the law. He passed away a short time ago, and I think Father still feels very guilty."

Aldo looks surprised. "You and your father have been through many trials."

Obi-Wan snorts. "You have no idea."

"And yet, you can see how close the two of you are in spite of all of that," Aldo says. "I swear, I've never seen anything like it before, and you _know _how crazy everyone on this planet is about family. It's almost like you two can read each other's minds or something."

Obi-Wan fights back another snort at the irony of Aldo's comment, but he is struck by the earnestness in the older boy's words.

If everyone truly thinks that what he and Qui-Gon have is so rare and remarkable, then is attachment really so bad?

* * *

><p>That night as he sits around a campfire with the royal family, Qui-Gon makes a sudden appearance, calmly carrying a flaming object as he walks in Obi-Wan's direction. Obi-Wan's first reaction is to grab his for the saber that isn't at his waist, but then he notices that Aldo and his parents are cheering with delight, and is utterly bewildered when they collectively burst into song.<p>

Obi-Wan blinks as the flaming object is held in front of him, and he comes to realize that it is a pastry of some sort—chocolate; his favorite—probably bought from the market that some of the families had set up.

Qui-Gon smiles at him, seeming amused by his baffled padawan. "Happy Life-Day, Ben," he says. "I know that you are unfamiliar with the customs of your mother's home planet, but it is Androxian tradition to present one with a cake and a song on their life-day."

Obi-Wan's mouth almost drops open—he had completely forgotten about his life-day. He is fourteen now! He thinks back to how monumentally important his thirteenth birthday had been when he'd thought he was never going to be a padawan, and how it no longer matters now that he has Qui-Gon.

As people in nearby camps come over to thump him on the back and wish him happy life-day and share a slice of cake, Obi-Wan sits in a sort of dazed glow. Qui-Gon sits down next to him and passes him the biggest slice of cake yet, and for once Obi-Wan doesn't care that the Code cautions against excess.

These are the kinds of memories that he wants to file away and keep forever in the back of his mind and heart. This is why he'd clung so fiercely to his Force rock when the Syndicat had tried to get him with the memory wipe droids.

Life as Qui-Gon's padawan is worth remembering.

* * *

><p>The next morning, it all goes to hell.<p>

It's about time, too—they've been celebrating the Solstice for five days now, and the closing ceremony is tomorrow night. Throughout the week there have been games, musical shows, and a notable lack of droids, data pads, and other technology. Which is why Obi-Wan becomes suspicious when he sees one of Aldo's ever-present bodyguards surreptitiously using a commlink as he and Aldo practice sparring with wooden sticks in a nearby field. Obviously Obi-Wan has to hold back greatly, but the Androxian is no average sixteen-year-old—he has trained extensively with his father's guard and can hold his own quite impressively.

He knows that Aldo doesn't see Rajan using the comm; he is so focused on their match. But Jedi training means that Obi-Wan is constantly vigilant of his surroundings, and he glimpses the flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye.

He reaches out to the bond, stretching to find Qui-Gon back at the camp.

To his surprise, it is much easier to find his master than it would have been even a week ago. This experience has truly brought new fortitude to their bond. Pausing only a second to marvel at how effortless the mental contact it, he deflects a blow from Aldo and calls out to his master.

_"Aldo's bodyguard just used a comm when he thought we weren't looking. I think he's hiding something…I've got a bad feeling about this, Master."_

The return comes almost instantly. _"I've learned to trust your 'bad feelings', Padawan. I'll make my way over to you. Be vigilant until then, and alert me immediately if anything happens."_

Obi-Wan quickly shoots back a mental nod, re-focusing in on his match with Aldo. He is trying to lose in a way that isn't completely obvious—making his parries much weaker than they would normally be; keeping his dodging a second slower than his actual instincts are. Aldo swipes sweat off his forehead, grinning at him as he swings down with a particularly nasty block. There is a brief flare in the Force; just enough time for Obi-Wan to mentally shout a wordless warning to Qui-Gon, and then they are suddenly under fire from a small battalion of droids.

Rajan leads them, clutching his own blaster, and Obi-Wan reacts instantly, leaping in front of Aldo and using his makeshift wooden sword to deflect the first few blasts.

It quickly turns to cinder in his hands, and he longs for his saber, which he had left back in the tent. The Androxian style of dress didn't leave any room for concealed weapons, but Obi-Wan would have given his left foot to have his saber right now.

He wrenches Aldo's wooden stick from the older boy's hands and uses it to deflect the next few, trying to run for cover in the woods while still staying in front of Aldo, who seems to be in a state of shock.

_"Uhh...Master? If you're walking to get here, you might want to run instead," _Obi-Wan shouts over their mental bond. "_We're struggling."_

He throws Aldo behind a bush and grabs a new stick off the ground and keeps deflecting with all his might, allowing the Force to flow through him fully.

But something is off—well, beyond the fact that they are being attacked by someone who is supposed to be guarding the prince's life. The attack, in spite of the very real threat it poses, is too light for the heir to the royal throne. If Obi-Wan wanted to assassinate someone, he'd either do it himself, or he'd send a much greater number of people to do it than just Rajan and six standard battle droids. And Rajan seems to be working for someone, so none of this makes much sense.

But there is no time to ponder inconsistencies now—he and Aldo are cornered, and he has no saber to actually fight back; just a piece of charred wood to deflect with.

He gathers the Force closely to himself, and then sends it out again with a burst of energy, forming a Force shield around them. It won't last for long, and he'll be exhausted later, but at least they'll be alive.

Qui-Gon conveniently bursts through the thicket a couple of seconds later, and Obi-Wan's training saber is soaring through the air and right into his waiting fingertips. He watches Rajan's face illuminate with a strange triumphant light upon realizing that they are Jedi. He fumbles for his comm, but Qui-Gon leaps forward with amazing accuracy and slices the commlink right out of the pale man's hands.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan methodically dispatches with the battle droids—an easy task when he is armed with his saber.

But something is still off.

"You are working for someone," Qui-Gon says. It is not a question. "Tell me who."

Obi-Wan stands tensely, ready to deflect if Rajan decides to shoot his blaster.

Rajan laughs. "It doesn't matter. You're too late, anyway."

Realization dawns on Qui-Gon's face. "The king…" he breathes. "Obi-Wan, protect the prince. This was a trap to lure us out here. The real target all along was the king." And then Qui-Gon is gone, sprinting through the woods with his usual loping agility.

Obi-Wan turns around, expecting to have to do something about subduing Rajan, but is pleased to find Aldo standing in front of the now-unconscious traitor, holding a rock in his hands that he had smashed the other man on the head with. He seems unperturbed by the realization that Obi-Wan is actually a Jedi sent to protect him.

"Let's go help my father," the prince says, grabbing Rajan's blaster and taking off.

After that, everything wraps up easily. They arrive at the royal tent just in time to watch Qui-Gon deflect the killing blow meant for King Xander, delivered at the hands of his own younger brother, just as Obi-Wan had said from the start. What they hadn't anticipated was that Johan had suspected Jedi presence, and that he would use Aldo as a distraction to divert their attention so that he could kill his older brother.

"Why would I bother killing the boy when I could just kill the problem itself?" Johan spits hatefully at his brother as guards restrain him. Xander looks infinitely sad. "You never gave me everything! Just because I was born after you, I was robbed of my birthright! I should be king!"

He is dragged away then, and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon respectfully step outside of the tent to give the rattled family some time together.

"I knew it was Johan from the beginning," Obi-Wan says quietly. "Surely Xander had to know his brother hated him…why didn't he have him detained and questioned about the threats earlier?"

"Because Xander loves his brother, and didn't want to see the bad in him," Qui-Gon says.

"I'm starting to see why the Jedi Code cautions against attachment now."

Qui-Gon looks startled. "Obi-Wan, there is nothing wrong with emotions like love and affection. In fact, to love is one of life's greatest experiences. It's simply that Jedi are called to focus their love more broadly. We love everyone in the galaxy without attachment and do our best to serve all, rather than just one or two people we choose to have close to us."

Obi-Wan just nods, even though everything inside him wants to rage that _maybe you could love specific people **and **the galaxy simultaneously!_

"You fought well today, Padawan. I'd say our first mission back together has been a success," Qui-Gon says, laying a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Perhaps it is time to start planning an excursion to Ilum so that you can find a crystal for your own lightsaber."

Though he is sad to say goodbye to Aldo, he grins the entire walk back to the city and the spaceport.

* * *

><p>On the journey back to Coruscant, Obi-Wan is restless as he lays on his sleeping couch. After spending a week in the blistering heat of the summer season of Andros X, hyperspace feels freezing cold, and he can't get comfortable on his lumpy mattress. He is also nervous to sleep these past few nights, worried about having another vision.<p>

"Master?" He whispers after about an hour of lying there. He can't tell if Qui-Gon is awake or not from his breathing pattern.

"Yes, Padawan?" Qui-Gon says from the other sleep couch, his voice unusually gravelly, as though he had been on the precipice of sleep.

"Do you ever think about what life would be like if your parents hadn't given you to the Temple?"

Qui-Gon sounds much more awake when he responds.

"I can't deny that the thought hasn't crossed my mind from time to time," he says, a hint of humor in his voice. "Particularly when Mace and the Council are giving me grief. But I would not change my life's work for anything."

"Me neither," Obi-Wan says honestly. "I was just wondering…because…I don't know. Just wondering."

He can hear the smile in Qui-Gon's voice as he begins speaking, as though he too can understand the kind of thoughts that this mission has brought to the surface within Obi-Wan. His cadence is even and soothing, like he is telling a bedtime story to crechelings.

"I would live on a planet similar Andros X," he says, and Obi-Wan allows his eyes to drift shut as he listens. "Somewhere where there was lots of green life and forests and grasses and flowers. I'd have a little cottage by a pond, and it would be a simple life. I could grow food off of the land, and I'd have a garden full of fruits and vegetables."

Obi-Wan can almost see the picture Qui-Gon is painting in his mind's eye.

"I'd want to get married, too—I've always been drawn to other people, and it would all mean nothing without a family by my side. My wife and I would have lots of children, and they could play in the creek. We'd have picnics in the meadow and hike in the mountains. Perhaps my oldest child would be a son..."

Obi-Wan drifts off to the sound of Qui-Gon's voice, imagining his master standing in the doorway a little white house, with a woman who looks an awful lot like Tahl Uvain at his side. He sees himself there too with Owen, standing in the meadow and throwing a ball to his brother. Qui-Gon calls to him from the doorway of the house and Obi-Wan runs to him, laughing and calling out to his father, knowing that an embrace is waiting for him when he reaches the house.

He knows he shouldn't dwell on such things—that it is the epitome of un-Jedi-like behavior to imagine a life with so much attachment. But they won't be back at the Temple until the morning, and until then, he is _technically_ still on a mission, which means he's _technically _still Ben.

So he lets Ben dream, even if it's just for one night.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading, and thanks for the reviews! If you have a minute or two, feedback is always appreciated :) I think this chapter was my favorite to write so far. Until next week!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning for a brief scene of fairly non-graphic torture. Also I tried to make this plotline not confusing, but this is my first time ever writing switching between flashbacks and present tense, so hopefully the designation between the two is clear.  
><strong>

**This chapter is set about a month after Chapter 3.**

* * *

><p>Just a quick stop at Mondovi, and then they'd be on their way to Ilum before Obi-Wan could say 'lightsaber crystal'.<p>

That was what Qui-Gon had said.

And now Obi-Wan finds himself locked in the bowels of some sort of torture dungeon in the capital city of Mondovi, and the idea of actually ever making it to the crystal caves of Ilum seems about as likely as Mace Windu admitting that he is a secret fan of dancing, or Master Yoda speaking without riddles.

He tries to laugh, but it comes out as more of a sob. He doesn't want to die here, chained up like an animal in a filthy prison cell; unable to use the Force and betrayed by his bruised, battered body. But with each hour that passes, this fate seems more and more likely. He is becoming weaker and weaker, and he knows it will not be long before they come back for another round of interrogation and torture.

In spite of all his Jedi training, he is not sure how much more he can take. He has been here for days already, and he has nothing more to give.

He struggles to breathe evenly through the tears,—deep, steady meditation breaths—too weak to reach up to wipe his eyes. Even though they have given him drugs that block him from reaching out for the comfort of the Force, he can still use his training.

_There is no emotion, there is peace. _

Painful inhale, painful exhale. He thinks a few of his ribs are broken, if not quite bruised at the very least.

_There is no death, there is the Force. _

He has had a good life. Good, but short. He has made a difference with his time; serving others as a Jedi.

It's just…there's so much left to do. He doesn't _want _to die. He is barely fourteen. Things are going really well with Qui-Gon ever since their bond had been renewed, and he is about to get his first real lightsaber.

But he will accept death should it come, because at least he is the one in this cell and not Qui-Gon. As long as his master lives on, he will be satisfied.

He just wishes they had never come to Mondovi in the first place.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Seven days earlier<em>**

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Master," Obi-Wan says from his position in the copilot's seat of their small star cruiser, watching the older Jedi's fingers fly over the keypad, typing in coordinates for the spaceport of Mondovi, a remote planet in the same system as Ilum.

Qui-Gon studies his apprentice for a moment. "You're just saying that because you're eager to skip Mondovi and get to the crystal caves. Patience, Padawan mine."

Obi-Wan lets out a huff that is a cross between sigh and laugh. "You know me well, Master." They have been planning this trip for nearly a month— Obi-Wan is finally going to attempt to get a crystal for a real lightsaber in the caves of Ilum! But just a few days ago, Qui-Gon's friend Brinna had hologrammed him, asking him to come for a visit on Mondovi.

She sounds very nice from Qui-Gon's stories, but in truth, he would really rather prefer not to stop at the small planet. Something about it feels slippery and murky to him, although he can't quite put words to the sensation. Looking at it now, coming up in the distance, it looks like a perfectly lovely place. He can see swirls of clouds on the atmospheric surface, and a lot of blue—it is an almost completely oceanic planet, according to the research Obi-Wan had done on his datapad on the journey here.

"I've told you, Obi-Wan, it will be only a brief detour. One night; perhaps two, and that's it. I have not seen Brinna for almost ten years, and for her to specifically ask for me to come visit her means that I cannot refuse. I feel that we are needed on this planet, even if I do not yet know why."

Obi-Wan holds back another sigh, nodding respectfully instead. The sentiment still transmits itself effortlessly over their bond, however, as everything does nowadays since their last mission brought them closer together. Qui-Gon smiles slightly in response, clearly amused by Obi-Wan's impatience to get his crystal for his very own lightsaber.

"I am sure that our visit will be peaceful, Padawan. You need not worry—this is a planet renowned for its boat construction and choral music, not armies and armadas."

Obi-Wan trusts his master, but he also trusts his instincts. Staring back at the blue planet that is growing closer and closer to their ship, he bites his lower lip, the nervous feeling growing stronger.

"I sure hope so, Master," he says.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Present<em>**

Obi-Wan's world has narrowed to two things—darkness and pain. So much pain, it is indescribable. He has never known anything like it before, even after all of the duels and fights he has been in throughout his years as a Jedi. He has never been kidnapped or imprisoned alone—he and Qui-Gon have spent time in jail cells from time to time when diplomatic missions have gone sour, but there was never actual torture involved and he was never alone, besides the Syndicat's attempt to renew him.

They had moved him to a different cell just a few hours ago, and he is still recovering from the transit, his limbs aching from the rough treatment of the guards' hands. He attempts to roll onto his side, almost passing out at the wave of anguish that rockets its way through his entire body.

"Hello?" He calls weakly. "Is anybody there?"

There is a long pause and then a gruff voice speaks up, cracked and rough from disuse. "I'm here, kid. Right across the hallway from you. Name's Lynk."

It takes Obi-Wan's pain-clouded mind a few minute to realize why the name Lynk feels like it should be significant. "You're Brinna's uncle! She's been looking for you."

Lynk's voice sounds suddenly much more alert and hopeful. "You know Brinna? Why is a kid like you in a hellhole like this?"

Obi-Wan lets out a sharp laugh. "It's a long story."

"Well, I've got lots of time. I don't think I'll be moving anywhere for a good while yet, kid."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Six days previous<em>**

"Qui!" A woman of an aquatic species rushes towards them as they exit the Mondovi spaceport. She is taller than Qui-Gon and slender, with almost translucent skin and slightly webbed fingers. According to his research, the Mondoviian species is capable of holding their breath underwater for much longer than humans, but they dwell on land.

Obi-Wan cranes his neck and looks around in amazement. The capital city, also called Mondovi, is set up as a labyrinth of canals. Everywhere he looks, he sees water and pristine white buildings.

He watches as Qui-Gon and the person that he assumes is Brinna greet other and embrace. Qui-Gon had briefly explained that he'd met Brinna some ten years ago while on a mission to another planet in the Ilum system. She had helped him sneak into an important government office, and he had broken her out of prison when she'd been arrested for helping him. According to Qui-Gon, they haven't been able to keep in touch much the past ten years.

Now they seem like they have never been apart from one another.

When they manage to finish their initial exclamations and greetings, Qui-Gon turns to Obi-Wan, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Brinna, this is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Padawan, this is Brinna."

Obi-Wan attempts a bow but is stopped as Brinna pulls him into a spontaneous embrace. Her skin is cool and smooth, as though it is meant to be underwater. "So nice to meet you! You must be exhausted—are you hungry? You look like you must be hungry; growing boys always are. Qui-Gon, you should feed this child more; he's skin and bones!" She chides, pulling Obi-Wan along the canal with her. Obi-Wan swivels his head back around to make wide-eyed eye contact with his master, feeling slightly overwhelmed. Qui-Gon's eyes gleam at him with amusement.

Brinna begins pointing out buildings to them along the way. "That's the governor's house, and down the block is the school for all the children. Oh, and here's the capitol building—we do almost everything here." She pauses in front of the biggest building at all. It is an impressive sight, but Obi-Wan is busy trying to take small, even breaths through his mouth, feeling overwhelmed by the powerful scent of raw fish. They are on the main canal now, and vendors line the side of the path, selling fish and other strange-looking sea creatures out of their boats and sometimes little carts on solid ground.

When his nose finally adjusts, he can appreciate the town hall building much more—it is almost on the same scale as the Jedi Temple in terms of size and resplendence, and Obi-Wan wonders how such a small, remote planet can support a hall of such opulence.

"In fact, this is where my choir practices. Not to boast, but we're quite famous in the system. Do you sing, Obi-Wan?" Brinna asks kindly. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to answer, but is cut off in the attempt.

"No, he doesn't," Qui-Gon asserts wryly. "Though I hear him trying most valiantly in the fresher every morning."

"Hey! I'm not _that _bad. And at least I don't hum to our plants at night," he says indignantly.

Brinna laughs, enjoying the exchange. "Well, I suppose you Jedi can't be good at _everything. _But if you have time while you're here, I'd love for you to come for a performance, or even just a practice."

Qui-Gon pauses for a moment, as though he is thinking about how to proceed. "Well, we're uncertain as to how long we'll be here. Not that we mind visiting, of course, but you had been asking for help when you hologrammed me…"

Brinna's face becomes sober, her large eyes darting around to see who all around them might be listening. "We have to be very careful where we discuss things like this, Qui. Come, my house is just five minutes' walk away; we'll talk there."

She ushers them down the street quietly now, her expression troubled and her eyes still darting around nervously. The further they get away from the busy market, the more Obi-Wan notices people staring at him and Qui-Gon. This planet doesn't get many visitors, and two humans stand out outside of the market.

When they arrive at her little white house, she lets them in and leads them into the kitchen unit, putting a pot of water on for tea.

"What's going on, Brinna?" Qui-Gon asks calmly. "Are you in danger? Does our presence as Jedi put you in danger here?"

"Yes—well, no…it doesn't put me in danger so much as it puts both of _you _in danger. I'm sorry, Qui! I shouldn't have asked you to come; it's just that I didn't know who else to turn to for help!" Brinna frets, wringing her hands anxiously.

"Not to worry, Brinna. I never mind doing a favor for one of my old friends," Qui-Gon says, his voice mellow. Obi-Wan can feel a hint of calming Force suggestion in his master's tone, and he watches as Brinna takes a deep breath and seems to become much more tranquil, her hands relaxing around her teacup and her eyes becoming more focused.

"It's my uncle, Lynk—you might remember me talking about him, Qui. He's the one who took me in when my parents died. He works in the capitol building; the big one I pointed out to you earlier. Something is wrong—he left for work last week and just didn't return at night, and I haven't heard from him since. It's not like him. He had some suspicions, but..." she trails off, shaking her head despairingly.

"Suspicions about what?" Qui-Gon prompts gently.

Blinking overly bright eyes, Brinna sets her shoulders and continues. "As you may know, our main source of income on this planet besides fishing and shipbuilding is deep-sea mining. Lynk works on the committee that oversees the government budget, and he had noticed some discrepancies in the books when it came to the mining industry. Some _very _significant discrepancies. Which led him to believe that there is some very deep-seated corruption somewhere in that branch of industry."

Qui-Gon's face goes very still and pale, and Obi-Wan can feel the older Jedi's abrupt shock through their bond; almost as though his master has been punched in the stomach and had the wind knocked out of him.

"Brinna," Qui-Gon says casually, his voice a little tighter than his usual easy cadence. "This is just a hunch, but would the mining corporation that Mondovi partners with happen to be called Offworld Mining?"

As Brinna nods, Obi-Wan can barely keep his mouth from dropping open. Even in death, Xanatos still follows them.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Present<em>**

"Good to know that my girl called in the Jedi," Lynk says gruffly when Obi-Wan pauses in his story to cough deeply. He is oscillating between overly warm and freezing cold, and fears that he is probably getting sick. "She's brave, but she's not reckless enough to try and break in here herself. I'm glad I've taught her at least a _little _self-preservation over the years. Of course, I'm sorry it landed you in this mess."

Obi-Wan laughs hoarsely. "It's alright—danger is pretty much a part of the job description. I like helping people."

"Still, I take blame for you being here. You're just a boy, and you haven't done anything wrong. I thought I could trust my boss when I reported my concerns to him. Clearly not, because now I'm in here for some trumped-up charge so they can keep me shut up until they figure out how to dispose of me inconspicuously," Lynk says bitterly. "And you—tortured within an inch of your life. All for being a Jedi."

Obi-Wan opens his mouth to reassure the older man further, even though all he wants to do is sleep. He is stopped from responding by the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway, coming closer. They are coming for him; for another round of questioning. There is no doubt about it.

He fights back a whimper, determined not to show any signs of weakness even though every bone in his body cries out for rest and a thorough dunking in bacta.

There is a mechanical whoosh as the door to Obi-Wan's cell slides open, and every muscle in his body clenches in horrified anticipation.

"Time to wake up!" a cruel voice sing-songs. _Commander Gray. _He is the head inquisitor, and seems to take a particularly vindictive pleasure in interrogation. Obi-Wan tries to honor his Jedi training and not hate the man, but it is very difficult sometimes. "Are you still sleepy after our last round of fun, little Jedi? Maybe now that you're tired, you'll talk more."

Two of the guards lift him off his pallet and he can barely hold back a groan.

"What's the matter? Don't want to cry out and seem weak? Well, nobody from your precious Jedi Order is here to hear you now anyway, so you might as well. Don't worry, when they decide they care enough to come looking for you, we won't tell them about how you screamed and cried as you died."

Obi-Wan clenches his jaw, desperately working to keep his mouth shut. His temper has always been a problem, but any sort of retort will only get him beaten worse, or even killed. He draws in several deep breaths through his nose as they drag his limp form down the hallway, trying to emulate the calm that always flows from Qui-Gon's aura so effortlessly.

Thinking of his master hurts. He can only assume that the older Jedi is doing his very best to rescue him, but this will be a difficult place to infiltrate. They are underground, but also underwater. Obi-Wan can feel the pressure from the water presses all around the walls of the dungeon—the Mondoviians seem unbothered, but his ears had popped constantly the first few hours he'd been down here. Of course, he'd had larger issues to worry about at the time, so it hadn't really bothered him. He'd been worrying about escape back then; back before they'd give him a stronger dose of Force-inhibiting drugs and beaten him too badly to stand, let alone walk out of here.

Down the hall he can hear Lynk shouting. "Take me! I'm the one you should torture; damn it! He's just a boy! He's just a boy!"

Obi-Wan shudders as another door is unlocked and a familiar room is revealed.

Qui-Gon had better hurry.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Five days previous<em>**

Qui-Gon still seems a bit in shock. Obi-Wan doesn't blame the man; he feels the exact same way.

After a good night's rest and a long morning meditation, the two Jedi sit down to morning meal with Brinna.

Qui-Gon accepts a cup of tea, his visage weary and troubled.

"Brinna," he says after they begin eating in silence. Obi-Wan is poking dubiously at the fish wrapped in bread that Brinna had placed before him. He really doesn't like seafood, and especially not for morning meal. "Do you remember my padawan, Xanatos?"

Obi-Wan looks up from his plate, startled. He shouldn't be, really—Xanatos had Turned nine years ago and Qui-Gon and Brinna had met ten years ago. Of course Xanatos would have been with Qui-Gon for that first mission where he had saved Brinna from prison.

"Of course, Qui-Gon," she says, clearly curious at where this is going. "Is he a Master now?"

Qui-Gon's laugh is slightly bitter, and Obi-Wan automatically reaches across the bond to soothe the hurt before he even thinks about it. Normally Qui-Gon is the one comforting him, but this time his master flashes a bit of gratitude back to him over their mental connection, the lines on his face relaxing slightly.

"No. It's a long and painful story, Brinna, but Xanatos Turned to the Dark Side of the Force just about a year after we met."

Brinna gasps sympathetically, laying a hand on top of Qui-Gon's arm supportively. "I'm so sorry, Qui. That must have been unbearably difficult for you."

"Yes," Qui-Gon says simply. "It was, for many years." His eyes flicker over to Obi-Wan. "But things have gotten much better recently."

"Does Xanatos have something to do with my uncle's kidnapping?" Brinna asks perceptively.

"It seems very possible, Brinna. I'll be frank with you—it's probable that Xanatos was trying to lay a trap for Obi-Wan and I before his death three months ago. Offword Mining was in his hands before he died, and if Mondovi was doing business with them, then I'm sure your uncle was correct in his suspicions about the government corruption. When Xanatos started doing business on Mondovi, he probably remembered you from our mission together and decided that a good way to lure me here would be to get you to call me for help."

"Then I've played right into his plans!" Brinna groans.

"No, you haven't—he's dead, Brinna. Of that I'm quite certain. Mondovi is a remote planet— he probably set these plans into motion before his death and now his men here from Offworld haven't heard that he's no longer their leader. News travels slowly around this part of the galaxy. We need to proceed with caution when rescuing your uncle, but we need not fear Xanatos showing up in the prison to kill myself and Obi-Wan, as I'm sure was his original plan," Qui-Gon explains patiently.

"The prison building is all the way on the other side of the seaport—how do you know my uncle is being kept there?" Brinna asks, hope alighting her eyes for the first time at the mention of a concrete location.

"Because if the corruption is in the government, then they are the ones who will want to detain him," Obi-Wan explains, sensing that his master needs a break from such an emotionally-loaded topic. "I'm sure Xanatos did his research and realized your uncle would eventually grow suspicious of Offworld. He probably ordered the government officials that he paid off to throw Lynk in prison if he ever spoke up about his doubts. Then he would wait until _you _grew worried and contacted us for help, and he'd be here waiting when Qui-Gon and I rushed in to help your uncle."

Brinna shakes her head, amazed. "If you'd asked me a month ago, I would have said that this was one of the most peaceful planets in the galaxy. But now there's corruption coming from everywhere—the miners, the government…it's quite a tangled web that's been woven here."

"Yes," Qui-Gon says, his mouth twisted slightly. "Yes, well, that was always one of Xanatos' strengths."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Present<em>**

What Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon hadn't accounted for when they'd broken down their suspicions about Xanatos setting a trap for them was that the government officials and mining officials are all extremely paranoid.

Hence why they have spent the past three days interrogating Obi-Wan and beating him when he keeps responding that he doesn't have the information they want.

"What does the Republic want with us? Which of the senators went to the Jedi Council and set you out after us? Was it those traitors on Ilum?" Commander Gray is relentless, baring down upon Obi-Wan, who is laid out on some sort of rack that stretches further and further every time Obi-Wan refuses to answer a question. He is already panting with pain, his muscles strained beyond belief. The image of the Commander is blurred and distorted in his hazy vision, and he can barely remember his own name right now, much less the name of any Republic senators.

The first day it had been a mind probe, which he had resisted flawlessly in spite of not having access to the Force for help. He still had Qui-Gon's Force stone in his pocket, and if he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel its smooth texture in the palm of his hand. Then when mental torture hadn't worked, he'd been beaten yesterday.

It has all taken a toll and he feels disoriented now—where is Qui-Gon? And more importantly, where is _he_? He strains for the last thing in his memory…they were going to Ilum for Obi-Wan to make his own lightsaber, and…_Mondovi. _

It all comes back to him suddenly, just in time for Commander Gray to tighten the rack three little notches as punishment for not answering the man's questions.

The government officials and mining officials are convinced that Xanatos has sold them out, and are terrified that the Republic is after them for their corruption. Obi-Wan seriously doubts the Republic would care that much about a bit of illegal mining on a remote planet like this, but these men all regard his presence and Qui-Gon's presence as a signal that their necks are on the line; that Xanatos betrayed them and disappeared three months ago, and now they will take the fall for the corruption he conned them into. They hate him, because they think that he has been sent by the Jedi Council to arrest them all.

Obi-Wan can't help it; he lets out a scream as he feels things in his body stretch in ways they never should.

"Answer me and this can end!" Gray barks.

Obi-Wan doesn't say anything—there is nothing to say anymore. They won't believe anything he says, anyway.

He hears the clicking noise each time as the rack is tightened by three more notches, and his world erupts into a starburst of pain.

He thinks he might be screaming; calling out for someone or something, but he doesn't know—everything is awash in black blotches that grow and overtake his graying vision. He can't _think; _he can't remember anything. Time is meaningless—maybe he has been suffering like this for a few seconds, or maybe it has been eternity.

_I'm dying, _he thinks. _This is it. Master, I'm sorry.  
><em>

He really does lose consciousness then for a while, and to his surprise, he wakes up alive in his cell again.

Across the hall, Lynk is calling to him, his voice tight with worry.

"M'here," Obi-Wan whispers hoarsely. Even his throat muscles ache, and he remembers the screaming. He doesn't even attempt moving, knowing that being stretched like he had been before means that he will be sore for days after, maybe even weeks. There are probably torn muscles and ligaments in many of his limbs; strained joints and bruised bones.

"By the sith, kid—what did they do to you down there?" Lynk asks.

It hurts to blink. "M'okay," he mumbles, drifting back into unconsciousness again. They haven't fed him or given him anything to drink for almost two days now, and he thinks that he might be recovering a tiny hint of the Force now that the drugs are exiting his system. It is a bad sign—if they aren't bothering to continue to dampen his Force abilities, that might mean that they are planning on killing him soon. Maybe he should make some information up and prolong the questioning.

A familiar presence is moving swiftly towards them—Obi-Wan can barely sense a tiny flutter of feeling from this person on the fringes of his mind—but he is too tired to think any further. He imagines himself as Ben, camping out in a tent with his father at the Solstice festival, his only concern the amount of fish he will catch the next day. He pictures every detail of the scene until it feels so real that he can almost smell the forest and feel the sunlight on his skin as he surrenders to the painless embrace of sleep.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Four days previous<em>**

They have the plans for the prison and are trying to plot their entrance point. It is a difficult to place to get into, as most prisons tend to be. Mondoviians are used to swimming most places beyond the canals; their sleek, aquiline bodies designed to cut through water with speed and ease. But the prison had been specifically designed so that prisoners could not escape and swim away.

It rests on the top of a mountain across the seaport, and they are currently poring over several maps in Brinna's kitchen, debating the options. Brinna is worried—Obi-Wan does not need to be Force-sensitive to read her wrung-out emotions. Her uncle has been missing for almost two weeks now, and now that she knows where he is probably being held, she is anxious to just go and get him already.

Qui-Gon sighs, rubbing between his eyes; a sure sign of the headache that Obi-Wan can feel building over the bond. He pushes a bit of healing energy towards the older Jedi, who flashes a grateful smile at him.

"Padawan, I don't know about you, but I could use a break," Qui-Gon says, tossing Obi-Wan his pouch of credits, which Obi-Wan nimbly plucks out of the air. "Why don't you go find a street vendor and buy us some food for evening meal?"

_Brinna needs to relax, or she is going to be a wreck when we attempt our rescue tomorrow, _Qui-Gon says over the bond. _You find food, I'll see if I can distract her for the time being._

With a nod, Obi-Wan ducks out into the street, grateful for the cool evening air and a chance to stretch his legs. Brinna lives in a quieter section of the city, so he has a ways to walk to get back to the market, but he doesn't mind.

He has gotten about a block before he realizes that he is being followed. And not very subtly, either.

Glancing over his shoulder as he rounds the corner, he feels a hint of warning begin to stir in the Force. He recognizes the Mondoviian man following him—that man had been shopping a few stalls down from him and Qui-Gon at the market yesterday. It was a detail that any ordinary person would miss, but a Jedi would not.

It seems that his and Qui-Gon's presence on Mondovi has not gone unnoticed—now the question is, who is having him followed? Is this just a man looking to rob an offworlder, or is he working for Xanatos' former company? For the government?

He places a hand on his training saber just to make himself feel a little better as he continues strolling casually towards the market. The man is almost a block behind, perhaps he won't notice if Obi-Wan ducks into an alleyway—

He realizes an instant too late that he has made the wrong decision; the Force screaming a warning at him. The man following him had obviously been a trap—Obi-Wan should have known it from the start—he was being too obvious in his shadowing. It had all been a ploy to get Obi-Wan to try and slip the follower by cutting through this alleyway all along, and he had fallen for it.

He feels a sharp sting as a syringe is stabbed into his neck, his legs instantly giving out from underneath him as the Force is abruptly cut away from him, stealing away his defensive skills and his strength.

He doesn't even have time to shout a mental warning to Qui-Gon before the Force is completely ungraspable, darkness closing in over him and the pouch of credits slipping through his fingers.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Present<em>**

The sound of a lightsaber brings Obi-Wan back to wakefulness.

For a second, he is drowning in the nightmares that plague him so regularly nowadays—is Xanatos here, looking to strike Obi-Wan down?

But no—Xanatos is dead. Obi-Wan saw him fall on Telos; saw the look on Qui-Gon's face the moment his former apprentice chose death. It is not something that he would ever forget; it is just the heat of fever and the confusion of dehydration making him feel disoriented and confused. Everything is fuzzy and unfocused in his vision, as though the room is swimming. He feels oddly at peace though—a familiar warmth has been restored to his mind. He doesn't remember where it comes from or why it has been missing, but it is as though some incredibly vital piece of himself has been returned to him.

In spite of his blurred vision, he can tell that the room is flooded with very familiar green light, and he can hear the sound of a lightsaber cutting through the door. It takes his brain a long moment to scramble to catch up—why is Qui-Gon cutting through his bedroom door with his lightsaber? The maintenance droids aren't going to be pleased about that.

But wait—he isn't at the Temple. His innocent attempt to take a deep breath confirms that as every muscle and bone in his body screams in protest. He is still in the dungeon on Mondovi, awaiting rescue.

He knows that his brain is working slowly right now; that he should be putting the pieces of the situation together much faster than he is. But the door is cut clean through, his master stepping over the threshold, before he realizes that help has actually arrived.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon breathes from the doorway, an inscrutable expression on his face.

Obi-Wan blinks hazily, and Qui-Gon is suddenly at his side, kneeling down next to Obi-Wan's flimsy pallet on the hard ground. He suddenly recognizes the warmth in his mind, and realizes that the Force has returned fully to him, and with it, the bond.

"Master?" He whispers disbelievingly through cracked lips. "You came? You're here to rescue me?"

An expression of such grief steals its way across Qui-Gon's face that it makes Obi-Wan's chest ache. Or perhaps it's the broken ribs. But either way, he has never seen Qui-Gon looks quite so sad and weary, not even in the immediate aftermath of Xanatos' death.

A warm palm comes up to smooth the blood-matted, sweat-crusted hair out of Obi-Wan's eyes. "Of course I came for you, little one. I would have been here much sooner, were it not for the fact that I couldn't feel your end of the bond and determine where you were being held."

"Oh," Obi-Wan says inanely, blinking heavy eyelids. "Sorry."

Qui-Gon shakes his head, his face growing very still as he examines the extent of the bruising and welts on Obi-Wan's battered, tortured body. "That was not your fault," he says firmly. "None of this was your fault, Padawan."

"Okay," Obi-Wan says sleepily. "What—what're you doing?" He mumbles. Qui-Gon gently places one arm under Obi-Wan's knees and the other around his shoulders, easily lifting him off the pallet.

"Getting you to safety before the next round of guards change posts and find their unconscious comrades," Qui-Gon says grimly. "Brinna is helping her uncle."

Obi-Wan just nods, allowing his eyes to drift closed. The bond is completely open between them right now, and he can feel Qui-Gon pushing healing energy his way. It makes it hard to stay awake.

He dozes off for a while, and hears snippets of a conversation flowing around him.

"…thank you, Master Jinn, sir…just glad you're here to get the boy…not sure how much longer he could have taken it…" Lynk's familiar voice rumbles. At one point, Obi-Wan briefly opens his eyes to see Brinna supporting her uncle as they walk. The older man doesn't seem to be in too bad of shape, but his cheekbones stand out sharply, and his features are drawn and weary.

Qui-Gon says something then, his chest rumbling against Obi-Wan's cheek. Lynk speaks again.

"…torture was very bad; particularly yesterday…the boy kept screaming for his father at one point…"

Obi-Wan feels the arms holding him tighten spasmodically for an instant, and then he is drawn closer and shifted protectively in Qui-Gon's grip. He manages to blink several times in a row, eventually coaxing his eyes to stay open. He and Qui-Gon are alone now, and they are moving through white hallways. Wherever they are, it's not the dungeons anymore.

"Padawan," Qui-Gon says, immediately noticing Obi-Wan's wakefulness. "We are heading out from the basement of the capitol building and straight to a healer that Brinna trusts. Lynk is weak but not injured. Mondoviians find water restoring and rejuvenating, so he and Brinna chose to swim out of the building so that Lynk can regain his strength."

"The capitol building…" Obi-Wan murmurs as he realizes where they are; suddenly understanding why Brinna and Lynk were able to swim away from the building. "They didn't keep us in the prison…s'why you couldn't find us." All along, they had assumed that Lynk was being kept in the mountain prison, but they'd been in the capitol building instead the whole time, right in the middle of town on a water platform. Clearly the corruption had run deeper than they had thought, for the government to be so brazenly torturing people in the basement of their own office building.

"We should have been faster," Qui-Gon says. "There's no excuse for it, Padawan."

"S'okay, Master," Obi-Wan says automatically. He is sure that there is a story for what had detained Qui-Gon and Brinna for three days in their attempts to find him and Lynk, but he is still processing the fact that he is actually free from the dungeons. He had been so sure he was going to die several times, and now to be near the sunlight again is overwhelming.

"I want to go home," Obi-Wan says through a tight throat, one hand clinging to Qui-Gon's sleeve with all his dwindling might. He barely recognizes his own voice, it is so weak and croaky from screaming. In that moment, he doesn't even know what he means by 'home.'

Several places flash into his mind: their standard-issue, white-walled quarters in the Jedi temple; shelves littered with knick-knacks and their favorite teas and one vindictive _draconis _plant…the hot, cramped tent at the Solstice Festival; where Qui-Gon had held him as he cried after his vision…the meadow he had imagined as Qui-Gon had described his life if he'd never become a Jedi…this is what home means to him now.

In response to this plaintive appeal, Qui-Gon merely brings one hand up and carefully pulls Obi-Wan's head further into the crook of his neck, as though to shield him from the outside world.

His silent tears wet the collar of his master's tunic, and he is floored by the realization that _Qui-Gon means home to me. _

They spiral up several staircases, growing closer and closer to the light of day. The sunlight streaming through the windows is so bright that the light fills Obi-Wan's eyelids, even though he keeps his eyes shut, lulled by the rocking motion of Qui-Gon's even steps.

"Rest now, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmurs.

As they make their way through the marble halls, Obi-Wan swears that he hears a chorus of angels somewhere in the distance, and it takes him a long moment to remember Brinna's choir; practicing in the music center of the town hall.

The music swells and fills Obi-Wan's chest, and although he has no idea what the unfamiliar lyrics mean, he perfectly understands the sentiment of the song. It is a gentle lullaby; a quiet tune with deep sadness and a sense of mourning, but a greater sense of movement and hope stirring in the undertones.

It seems a fitting tribute to Obi-Wan's time in this building—he has lost something important in those hours of torture, but he is still alive, and he will keep on living.

* * *

><p>The sunlight feels glorious against his newly-healed skin.<p>

It has been five days; five days since he was rescued from hell. He doesn't remember most of the time since then—he had been delirious with fever the first two days, apparently, and submerged in bacta for the next three.

His bones and muscles are still stiff and sore as he makes his way outside of the healers' ward. The good thing about being hospitalized on an oceanic planet is that the view is _beautiful—_it helps that he is in a secluded, private little infirmary; more like a house than a medical ward, really. Master Che could stand to take a leaf out of the Mondoviians' book.

The healer is a friend of Brinna's and he is very kind and funny. Best of all, he agreed to let Obi-Wan venture outside alone this afternoon if he ate morning and noon meal.

And now he stands on the beach out back, his boots making satisfying prints in the sand as he slowly hobbles his way alongside the shoreline. It is slow going, but he is just grateful to be outside and free.

He hears the notes of an ethereal song trilling over the breeze as he rounds a bend, and he stops and leans up against a rock to listen to Brinna sing. Her blue-green hair blows in the salty wind, and her voice is high and pure, telling a story in a language that Obi-Wan doesn't understand. When she finishes, he claps.

She looks up and smiles brightly. "Well, look who's up and running around already! You fancy a sparring match, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan laughs. "Sure. I think I'd last about a second right now if I were really lucky."

"We should do it then. This is the only chance I'll ever have to beat you, little Jedi." It sounds much nicer when Brinna says it than when Commander Gray had sneered the words _little Jedi _at him. Still, a shiver runs down his spine at the memory. He suspects that it will take a long time for him to recover mentally and emotionally; much longer than his physical recovery. His nightmares will be worse, and he will flinch every time someone raises a hand to him in combat, or probes at the shields around his mind.

But he tries not to think of any of this as he sits down next to Brinna on a rock, looking out onto the peaceful bay.

"I want to thank you, you know," Brinna says after a long moment. "Not just for your role in saving my uncle and all you had to go through to do it, but also for saving my friend."

"What do you mean?"

"Qui-Gon, of course," Brinna says, and Obi-Wan looks over at her with confusion.

"Let me tell you a story, Obi-Wan," Brinna continues, her gaze far away. "Qui-Gon and I stayed quite close in the first year after we met. Even though he was often traveling on missions with his padawan, Xanatos, he would still hologram me and we'd talk every few weeks. And then suddenly about a year after we had our first adventure together, he stopped answering my holos. This went on for almost two years, until he suddenly called me again.

"I realize now that it was because Xanatos had Turned, and Qui-Gon was lost in his grief and guilt and self-blame," Brinna explains, and Obi-Wan struggles to imagine what Qui-Gon must have felt during that time. Obi-Wan would have been just a little crecheling, taking naps and causing mischief with Garen.

"We rarely talked for the next seven years. He was different—he smiled much less; was rarely at the Temple when I comm'd him there. And then about a year ago, things started to change again, and he was suddenly becoming more and more like the old Qui-Gon. Maybe happier than the young Qui-Gon, even. In a different way, of course. Something died in him when Xanatos betrayed him, but then I saw a rebirth and a rejuvenation in your master unlike anything I've ever seen in a person before. He's finally happy and at peace again, Obi-Wan."

"What was it?" Obi-Wan asks curiously. "What did it?"

Brinna laughs brightly, throwing her head back. "It was _you, _Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan feels his mouth drop open. "Wha—no, I don't—I didn't—"

Brinna smiles gently. "I know it's hard for you to see, especially since they train you out of all those feelings and things at that Temple of yours, but Qui-Gon truly cares for you, Obi-Wan. He was absolutely frantic when he realized you'd been kidnapped, and you know that Qui-Gon is never frantic. The only time I've ever actually seen him look frightened is when we broke into the prison and you and Lynk weren't there. Then we had to go through all the possibilities of where else you two could be—in a different city on Mondovi; on a completely different _planet _even…or worse. We just didn't know."

"How did you eventually find out that we were being kept in the capitol building?" Obi-Wan asks.

"The Force returned to you," Brinna says simply.

"Qui-Gon felt that? Just that little flickering? I was barely even conscious at the time," Obi-Wan says incredulously.

Brinna nods. "We took a water-racer out to talk to some of the miners, trying to get a feel for whether or not the two of you might have been hidden away in a mine somewhere, when all of a sudden Qui-Gon almost crashed the thing. He did such an abrupt about-face that I almost fell off the back, and before I knew it, we were hurtling towards the capitol building.

"'He's in pain,' Qui-Gon said as he drove us all along. 'We must hurry.' That was it. And then all of a sudden we were in the basement of the capitol building, fighting off the guards and finding the two of you. You know the rest."

They sit in silence for a long time after that, each staring out over the waves. That is how Qui-Gon finds the two of them nearly an hour later.

"Are you teaching Brinna to meditate, Padawan?" He asks, taking a seat on the rock next to Obi-Wan.

"No," Obi-Wan says wryly. "I just walked all the way out here and realized I was going to need a nice long rest before attempting the walk back to the house. Brinna has been kind enough to join me."

"The pleasure has been all mine," Brinna says, looking between the two Jedi and apparently deciding that they need some time to talk. "But I should really go see how my uncle is doing. He says he's fine, but I won't be satisfied until he puts a few more pounds on. Same goes for you, Obi-Wan." The look she gives him as she departs promises that there are many baked goods heading Obi-Wan's way in the near future if Brinna has anything to do with it.

"How are you feeling?" Qui-Gon asks when Brinna is gone. The way he asks is different from the way that Vokara Che or the Mondoviian healer would coolly assess his physical well-being. It is different from the way that the Council will inevitably ask him when he goes to report on the mission back on Coruscant. Qui-Gon doesn't ask as though he wants to know about Padawan Kenobi, the disciplined Jedi-in-training. He asks like he wants to hear from Obi-Wan, the fourteen-year-old boy who had almost just died.

"Sore and weak," Obi-Wan says honestly. "I don't know. I don't think that everything that's happened has really sunk in yet. But I'll be fine."

"It's alright if you aren't, though, Padawan," Qui-Gon says seriously. "You've been through a terrible ordeal, and it will probably take months for you to process everything that happened and recover from it. Nobody expects you to be running around doing katas or meditating in a headstand pose anytime soon. Remember that. The Council and I are only concerned that you feel safe and that you have time to heal."

Obi-Wan nods pensively, chewing on his lower lip as he looks out upon the sea. "I'm sorry about Xanatos, Master. I should have said it much sooner. But I'm sorry that his memory keeps following you around everywhere."

Qui-Gon's smile is sad. "Hopefully this will be the last encounter we will ever have with Xanatos' schemes and manipulations. But yes, his loss still pains me, even though I find it hard to talk about. I think a part of me will always wonder if I could have done more to help him; or if things would have turned out differently had I not been his master from the beginning."

Obi-Wan has nothing to say that will instantly quell his master's self-doubt—he knows what it's like to do battle with what-ifs. Still, he thinks it's important that Qui-Gon has actually admitted out loud that he is still struggling with Xanatos' betrayal and death. "It's okay not to be okay, though, Master," he points out dryly, turning the older Jedi's own words back on him. "Nobody expects you to run around doing katas or meditating in a headstand—you lost a padawan. It's alright if you need time to heal."

Qui-Gon laughs. "Well-played. When did you grow so wise?"

"I must have learned it from my master," Obi-Wan shrugs innocently.

Qui-Gon chuckles before sobering. "The Council says that they will dispatch a team to clean up the remainder of this mess—they'll have to sort the corrupt government officials out from the clean ones, and try to get the mining operations running according to Republic regulations."

"We're not staying to do it?" Obi-Wan asks, slightly disappointed. He knows that he is in for a long appointment with Vokara Che when they return to the Temple.

"No, the Council and I both feel that you have been through enough here. We're to return to Coruscant as soon as you're cleared to fly."

"Oh," Obi-Wan says softly, trying not to let his disillusionment show.

"We will come back to this system the next opportunity available," Qui-Gon promises. "Ilum will wait."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan says obediently, resting his chin on his knees and shivering in the cool breeze.

His chill does not go unnoticed by Qui-Gon. "Let's get back to the house before you make yourself worse," he says, helping Obi-Wan to his feet.

Obi-Wan is proud that he makes it all the way back to the house walking by himself, but falls onto the soft mattress as though he hasn't slept in three weeks straight.

When he awakes several hours later, Qui-Gon is deep in meditation on the sleep couch opposite his. Stretching out his stiff muscles, Obi-Wan pushes himself to his feet and stumbles to the fresher. When he steps back into the room, he feels a sudden tug in the Force, pulling him towards the door.

It is the middle of the night at this point, but he obligingly follows the pull, not sensing any sort of danger. His bare feet are cold against the sand, and he moves slowly, but he allows the Force to surround him with its warmth and push him with its will towards the rocks where he'd sat with Qui-Gon earlier.

Still following the feeling, he notices for the first time that between two of the rocks is the mouth of a small cave. He feels his breathing increase slightly—one of the side effects of his recent imprisonment is that he isn't too fond of small, dark spaces right now—but he reminds himself to trust in the Force. It will not lead him astray.

As soon as he steps inside the damp rock, he notices a blue light glowing some fifteen feet back. The Force's urging is stronger now, and he follows it, a genuine smile breaking out over his face when he reaches the source of the gentle blue light and plucks a Mondoviian Force crystal out of the rock, feeling a sense of _rightness _in his stomach.

The older members of the Order never talk about what they had had to face in the Crystal Caves of Ilum in order to get their own lightsaber crystals, but he knows that the Caves are commonly considered to be a test of sorts; a trial that every young Padawan must face to prove himself worthy of a lightsaber.

Mondovi is in the same system as Ilum, which means that its caves grow similar crystals. And he supposes that imprisonment and torture is certainly a sort of trial.

When Qui-Gon comes running out to find him a few hours later, out of breath and bare-footed in his panic that he'd awoken to find Obi-Wan missing, Obi-Wan is sitting under a blanket of stars on the Mondoviian beach, already working out the basic design of a blue-crystalled lightsaber; one that bears a striking resemblance to the green blade tucked on Qui-Gon's belt.

* * *

><p><strong>So...yeah. Hopefully that made sense. It was a lot to cram into one storyline and probably should have been divided up into a couple chapters, but c'est la vie, I guess. <strong>

**If anyone is wondering what kind of music I was picturing the Mondoviians singing (I know, who _isn't _wondering about that, right? Right?), I decided it would probably be something kind of Sigur Ros-ish. Probably the song _Dauðalogn. _Hahah just in case anyone is interested. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Back again! This chapter fought me tooth and nail, but I think I finally managed to say what I wanted to say. Also, I'm sorry but Yoda dialogue is really not my forte.**

* * *

><p>"Alright, Padawan, don't forget to that the laundry droid comes tomorrow, so have the hamper ready for it in the morning. Oh, and the maintenance droids are scheduled to come at some point in the next week or so to fix the leak in the water-supplier of the kitchen unit, so make sure to let them in—"<p>

Obi-Wan taps his foot pointedly against the smooth tiles of the foyer of the quarters that he shares with Qui-Gon, examining his ragged fingernails instead of listening to his master. Normally he wouldn't dare to be so disrespectful, but Qui-Gon has already told him all of this at least a dozen times, and has also left a detailed list of information for Obi-Wan to follow while he is away.

"—and don't forget to skip all your classes whenever you feel like it—"

"Master?" Obi-Wan interrupts incredulously.

"Just making sure that you're listening to me, Padawan," Qui-Gon says, a hint of a smile on his tired face. "Go to class."

Obi-Wan nods, returning to study his nails as a distraction, but this time for a different reason.

"I won't be gone for long, Padawan," Qui-Gon says.

Obi-Wan blinks eyes that suddenly sting slightly. "I know, Master," he says, carefully keeping his voice strong and even. "I just wish I could come too."

Qui-Gon is being sent alone on a mission to the planet Ilyrium, where two political factions are on the brink of a bloody civil war. Apparently he and Master Dooku had helped the planet hammer out a new constitution fifteen years ago, so he is the logical choice to send to help them now.

It has been only two weeks since he and Qui-Gon returned from Mondovi, and Obi-Wan has not yet been cleared to return to the field, something that he finds most frustrating. So instead of helping his master on what may very well be a dangerous mission, he is supposed to stay at the Temple and go through his normal routine; to try and adjust to regular life after having been tortured and imprisoned.

This means that he is supposed to sleep as much as possible, meditate whenever he feels the slightest bit anxious or upset, and talk to the Soul Healers if something troubles him. He doesn't mind the prospect of extra sleep—he is a growing teenage boy, after all—but the idea of actually voluntarily going to see the Soul Healers is laughable.

"Believe it or not, Padawan, I made it through more than forty standard years of life without you fretting over me and quoting Council edicts to me in the field," Qui-Gon says wryly before his face softens. "But it will be strange not listening to your snoring on the ship out there."

"That was _one _time that I quoted the Council!" Obi-Wan protests automatically, scowling defiantly on principle. "And I don't snore!"

"I'd beg to differ, Padawan," Qui-Gon says wryly, absentmindedly scratching at his shoulder where he'd had a recent injection. The Red Fever was an infamous killer on Ilyrium, and Qui-Gon had had to get an inoculation against the disease in order to be allowed on-planet. "Still, I'm not pleased at having to leave you behind."

Obi-Wan can't help the bit of warmth that bubbles up within him at this admission. Qui-Gon's face had gone very displeased and focused when he'd received the mission information from the messenger droids, and he'd muttered something about going 'to have a word with the Council'. Obi-Wan hadn't been certain what Qui-Gon had gone to talk to them about, but he suspects now that Qui-Gon had been reluctant to go on a solo mission with his padawan still not fully recovered.

Apparently the Council hadn't agreed with him, but at least he had tried.

"I'll be okay, Master," Obi-Wan says, uncertain as to whether he is trying to convince himself or Qui-Gon of this fact more.

Qui-Gon's eyes search his face momentarily, and Obi-Wan wonders what he is looking for. "Comm me if you need anything, and I will do my best to answer," he says finally, hefting his bag onto his shoulder. "Meditate daily, and talk to Master Yoda if anything troubles you."

Obi-Wan swallows. "May the Force be with you, Master," he says quietly.

"And with you, Padawan," Qui-Gon returns, placing a brief hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder before leaving.

Obi-Wan sits on the couch of the now-empty quarters for a few minutes, wondering what to do next. He quickly decides that he needs to do _something, _and prepares to head to a training salle to work on some katas for distraction.

He doesn't like the subtle feeling of his bond with Qui-Gon dimming more and more with each step Qui-Gon takes further away from the Temple.

* * *

><p>His first night alone, Obi-Wan sits cross-legged on the couch in the common area of their quarters, lounging with a cup of tea.<p>

"This is the life," he says out loud, stretching and leaning further back into the cushions. He has his feet up on the sofa with his boots on, something that Qui-Gon always scolds him for. And he has eaten three generous helpings of the stew that Tahl had delivered for him that afternoon, and then three slices of pastry, something that Qui-Gon would have probably raised an eyebrow at.

Still, the apartment feels quiet and lonely. He has watered the plants, straightened up the kitchen unit, and put away all the datapads that had been accumulating on the caff table. Now there is nothing to do and nobody to talk to, and the longer he sits, the more he begins to brood.

He knows that he still has a lot to work through from his time on Mondovi, but it is much easier to just keep busy and put off thinking about any of it until he has to. However, his treacherous mind quickly turns to the dungeons he had suffered in now that there is nothing else to distract him.

_The sounds of flesh hitting flesh…._

_ "Tell me, boy! Who betrayed us? Where is Lord Xanatos and why haven't we heard from him in almost four months?"_

_ The mind probe droid comes closer and closer; Obi-Wan imagines his Force rock sitting warm in the palm of his hand; imagines it with all his might until there is no other thought in his mind…_

He comes to sudden awareness, gasping and choking for breath. He sits for a long moment, reminding himself that he is safe within the Temple; reminding himself that all that had happened on Mondovi is nothing but a distant nightmare now. He wipes sweat off his forehead and pushes himself to stand, pacing back and forth across the room as his heart races and his hands shake.

The flashbacks have grown more infrequent as the days have passed, but they still creep up on him and surprise him with their intensity. He shivers, drawing his tunic more closely to his clammy torso. He has never faced a flashback alone—Qui-Gon has always been here to sit with him and meditate afterwards; a fortress of calm in the storm of Obi-Wan's fear and pain.

Forcing himself to take deep, even breaths through his nose, he settles himself on the mat in his favorite meditation pose. The Force pulses around the room; charged with Obi-Wan's nervous energy, and he wills it to slow and calm.

Still, he has a hard time achieving a true meditative state, and for a long time he just sits and gasps for air, struggling to breathe through the lingering panic of the memories.

Eventually, he gives in to the impulse to reach out to his Force bond with his master. As soon as he catches a hint of the older Jedi's familiar Force signature, his breathing calms and his fingers unclench themselves. They are far too far away to have an actual mental conversation or really any sort of meaningful contact, but the simple brush against Qui-Gon's consciousness is enough to bring Obi-Wan back to a state of peace.

Just knowing that his master is out there and reachable _somewhere, _even if it is thousands of lightyears away, is enough to make his fear abate and drift away. And as the fear of the flashback fades away, he chastises himself—he is fourteen years old, and a Jedi-in-training to boot! He shouldn't need reassurance of his master's continued existence in the universe just to function as a normal human being.

Still, as he settles into meditation, he can't help but reach out one more time to touch Qui-Gon's mind before settling into the peaceful beckoning of the Force. Just to make sure that Qui-Gon is alright on Ilyrium, of course. That's all.

* * *

><p>The next week feels like an eternity to Obi-Wan. Each day, he gets up and goes through his normal routine—classes and physical training, meals in the refectory, meditation and reading at night. He can feel that he's growing stronger; that his muscles are no longer sore after sparring class, and that he no longer flinches at sudden movements; longing to cower defensively from blows that are not coming.<p>

The nightmare of Mondovi is beginning to feel further and further away, and Obi-Wan can feel himself becoming more and more like his old self. He spends time with Bant and Tahl; with Reeft and Garen. He even goes on a very strange walk through the gardens with Siri Tachi after noon meal one day, and they don't bicker at all the entire time. To be honest, the walk is filled mostly with awkward silence, but it's better than nothing, he supposes.

Word of his imprisonment had spread around the Temple and all his friends are horrified on his behalf and very supportive. But still, sometimes he feels like their worry and concern is suffocating him. Occasionally he catches each of them looking at him like he is fragile; like he could fall apart at any moment. Qui-Gon has never looked at him like that; as though he is a weakling and a victim. He longs for his master's calm understanding when he sees Bant stare tearfully at him when she thinks he isn't looking.

And every night he comes back to his quarters alone, and feels the absence of Qui-Gon's presence more and more keenly. He hadn't realized how accustomed he had become to constantly being with the older Jedi, but the truth is, they haven't spent more than a few days apart for the entirety of the year that Obi-Wan has been apprenticed to Qui-Gon, minus the Melida/Daan incident.

Though he knows it is slightly pathetic, he still reaches out occasionally to touch Qui-Gon's mind through the bond, just to be sure that the older Jedi is well and safe. He has no clue what is happening on Ilyrium, but he can only trust in the Force to guide his wise master's path.

He understands now why Qui-Gon had always been away from the Temple during his nine years of self-imposed loneliness after Xanatos had turned—after being so used to someone else's presence, it is hard to go back to being alone.

* * *

><p>It is just after dawn on the eighth day when Obi-Wan awake to a sharp ripple in the Force and a searing, glaring sense that something is <em>wrong. <em>

He is out of bed with lightsaber in hand before he is even fully cognizant of being awake, and he automatically casts out with the Force; seeking out intruders or people crying out for help nearby. But nothing comes up, and it takes him a long moment to realize that the wrongness isn't coming from a person's presence—rather, it comes from absence.

Something is missing.

He _knows—_somehow he instinctively knows even before he reaches out that his bond with Qui-Gon is dead. He feels a sense of growing horror and disbelief take root in his stomach when he _does_ stretch out towards the comforting, familiar warmth in his mind that is his constant connection to his master, only to find a cold emptiness there instead.

"No," he breathes, scrabbling frantically at the spot in his mind to find his master. But there is nothing there—it is as though a light has been extinguished; as though Qui-Gon is simply—_gone. _"No, no, no." His voice rises in pitch, his fingers coming up to tangle in his short hair.

_It can't be._

Maybe Qui-Gon has been captured and given Force-inhibiting drugs, and that's why the bond has gone silent. Not that Obi-Wan would ever wish kidnapping upon his master—he knows from experience that it's a terrible way to spend a few days—but at least that would mean that Qui-Gon is alive and has some chance of escape. Because the other alternative for why Qui-Gon's Force presence had disappeared so abruptly is—

_No. _Obi-Wan can't even bring himself to think the words.

He shoves his feet into his boots with numb, clumsy fingers, and takes off for the Council chambers before he is even fully aware of where he is going. His feet guide him even as his brain remains dazed and in denial. He feels cold—had he felt this cold when the bond had been severed on Melida/Daan? But that had been a completely different situation, hadn't it? Back then he'd been warmed by the fire of righteous belief; belief that he was making the right choice by abandoning the Order.

To his surprise, Master Yoda and Mace Windu are waiting for him in front of the doors to the Council chambers. It is clear that they both have just arrived.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Mace Windu greets, his usually somber eyes even more serious than normal. "Did you feel the disturbance in the Force as well?"

"Well...I felt _a _disturbance, Master," Obi-Wan replies, his stomach churning with dread. "And a great loss; as though a part of my mind is missing."

"Great disturbance on Ilyrium, there was," Master Yoda croaks. "Seen the pain and suffering of the people there, I have."

Obi-Wan feels his heart rate speed up. "That's not what I felt—what I felt was more individual in nature. Masters, I think Qui-Gon—" he can barely get the words out. "I can't feel the bond anymore," he whispers finally.

Mace's smooth forehead wrinkles. "We don't know for certain that anything has happened to him, Obi-Wan. For all we know, he's just unconscious or preoccupied or—"

Obi-Wan shakes his head. He knows it's more than that.

He is spared having to explain this by the appearance of Ki Adi Mundi, the Council member responsible for receiving the transmission of emergency messages from other planets.

"I just received a distress call from Ilyrium," he says grimly, his robes flowing behind him as he strides onto the scene. "It seems that they have more problems than civil war now—a minor earthquake on the northern hemisphere of the planet just triggered a massive volcanic eruption. They're saying that thousands are dead; that entire villages and cities are gone. Almost the entirety of the northern hemisphere is just—_gone._"

Obi-Wan wills himself not to vomit.

"Distressing news, this is indeed," Master Yoda says, his green ears drooping slightly. "But abandon hope, we must not." He looks right at Obi-Wan as he says this.

"Which part of the planet was Qui-Gon on?" Mace asks. Silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment.

"The north," Obi-Wan chokes out. "It was the north."

"What do we do next?" Ki Adi Mundi asks. The words sound dim and faraway to Obi-Wan. All he can hear is the thudding of his pulse through his ears.

"Send help, we must. And as for Master Qui-Gon, we wait. Trust in the Force, you must, Obi-Wan," Yoda says.

"Let me go to Ilyrium to look for him," Obi-Wan pleads wildly. "Please, Master Yoda, let me go help there."

But Yoda is shaking his head in refusal, and Obi-Wan feels a sense of bleak hopelessness like he has never felt before; not even in the prison on Mondovi or when he'd faced renewal from the Syndicat.

"You aren't cleared for travel, Obi-Wan," Mace Windu says, his voice surprisingly gentle coming from the normally composed, aloof man. "And I doubt you'd be able to actually help given how worried you are about Qui-Gon. I know it's hard, Obi-Wan, but we'll send our best Knights to help on Ilyrium along with the Republic relief aide force. Have patience and trust in the Force."

Obi-Wan hears the comforting words, but doesn't absorb them. He is too busy picturing the chain of events on Ilyrium—would Qui-Gon have felt the earthquake and known that a volcano was coming? Would the Force would have warned him; would he have had time to escape before disaster struck? Or would he have been peacefully sleeping and not felt anything as the world turned to flame and lava and dissolved around him?

Obi-Wan barely manages to drop into a quick bow to the Masters before he is turning and running away from the Council chambers, his heart in his throat. His feet pound the familiar hallways as he flies away from it all—from the Council's refusal to allow him to leave; from the possibility of facing a world without Qui-Gon in it—

He runs. And runs, and runs, and runs. Because of the early morning hour, there is nobody to remind him to walk calmly in the hallways. He allows his feet to guide him blindly; weaving in and out of training salles, gardens, and fountains, losing himself in burn of his lungs and the ache of his legs, so that eventually there is no room left in his mind for thought.

When he feels like his body is about to give out beneath him, he jogs back to the apartment, still numb with shock as he lets himself into the familiar space. Everything feels different—he feels as though he is floating through a dream; like he is a droid set on autopilot.

He sits on the couch for a long while and just stares blankly at the wall—time has no meaning. Perhaps it has been hours since he received the horrible news and has been waiting for news in this purgatory. Or perhaps it has been just minutes. Maybe days, even.

Eventually, the sweat from his run dries and he finds himself chilled to the bone. He runs a hot shower and sits curled in a ball under the spray until it runs cold. Then he dresses and comes back to sit on the couch again, uncertain of what to do with himself. Qui-Gon's to-do list is on one of the cushions, but his vision blurs with hot liquid every time he looks at the familiar scrawl, and he can't imagine actually cleaning right now.

The apartment seems different; as though the walls themselves can sense that their Living-Force sensitive master is in danger and possibly dead. The plants are all drooping; normally bright colors and unfurled leaves now shriveled up protectively.

In the corner, the stupid _draconis _plant—Qui-Gon's favorite—seems particularly miserable. It is curled in on itself; it's normally iridescent green leaves a rather sickly shade of yellow. It practically radiates sadness through the Force to him.

Heaving a thick sigh, Obi-Wan pushes himself to his feet and crosses over to the pathetic plant. For once, it doesn't project its usual hostility towards him.

Reaching out tentatively, he smoothes down some of the leaves, pushing the tiny bit of connection he has with the Living Force towards it.

"Guess it's just you and me for the time being," he murmurs, feeling stupid for talking to a plant. "But he'll come back. I know he will. You'll see," he says resolutely through a tight throat, mustering all the confidence he possesses.

The plant just sort of shudders and leans slightly closer towards Obi-Wan, something that it has certainly never done before. Obi-Wan picks it up and carries it over to the couch with him. He places his comm unit on the table right in front of him so that he can respond instantly should Qui-Gon himself or anyone else try to contact him with news, and hugs the potted plant in his lap as he begins a silent vigil for his master.

"He likes me much better than you, by the way," Obi-Wan reminds the plant after a while. "Just so we're clear on that."

Obi-Wan means it as a joke, but he only feels worse when the plant just folds itself more closely towards him, clearly seeking comfort regardless of the fact that Obi-Wan is being mean.

The situation is grim indeed if a semi-sentient plant is upset about it.

* * *

><p>Yoda is the first one to come to the door, tapping on it with his ever-present walking stick and then just proceeding to open it with the Force when Obi-Wan doesn't immediately let him in.<p>

If he thinks that Obi-Wan has gone off the deep end when he opens the door and finds Obi-Wan sitting on the couch and hugging a plant, he doesn't say anything. Instead, he just uses his geimer stick to push the door of the apartment shut again, and he makes his way to sit on the caff table opposite Obi-Wan.

"Troubled, you are," he croaks.

_Yeah, no kidding, _Obi-Wan thinks, but he bites his tongue before talking back to the centuries-old master. "Of course I am, Master. My master is missing; probably dead, and thousands of innocent lives on Ilyrium have been lost." His voice is flat; emotionless.

Yoda nods sagely. "True this is. But troubled you have been long before this morning."

Obi-Wan's head shoots up so quickly he gets a crick in his neck. "What do you mean?" He asks, suddenly terrified that he is about to be reprimanded for his obvious attachment to his master. Not that it really matters—nothing matters right now except finding out what has happened to Qui-Gon. Still, he fights back the wave of guilt and worry that always crops up when he thinks about the confusing revelation that he had had in the Halls of Healing after his concussion.

"Confused, your feelings about Qui-Gon are. You want a deeper connection with your master, but fear that unnatural your want is."

"I tried not to feel this way, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan whispers. He bows his head, waiting for judgment. He's thought through this confrontation before; wondered what would happen if the Council realized that Obi-Wan sometimes wished he could just be Ben; that he could have a father instead of a master.

Because he knows that this level of attachment is a liability—if he were ever in a situation where he was forced to choose between Qui-Gon's life and the life of an innocent civilian, he would have a very hard time choosing to save the civilian. How could he ever not do everything in his power to save his master? And the Council does not want that—Jedi serve the Force, not their feelings.

Usually when he thinks about the Council chastising him, he imagines himself panicking; maybe crying and trying to defend himself or deflect. But now he is calm, because the worst has already happened. There is nothing left in this life to fear anymore if Qui-Gon is truly dead.

Yoda is quiet for a moment. Then he suddenly thwacks Obi-Wan on the shin with his stick.

"Ouch!" Obi-Wan yelps, almost dropping the plant. "What was that for?"

"Sense knocked back into you is what you need," the wizened green being says matter-of-factly. "What does the Force tell you about these feelings?"

"Well, that's the thing," Obi-Wan explains, rubbing his shin with a grimace. "It just feels _right _to imagine Qui-Gon as my—as my—" he can't bring himself to say the word out loud. "As my protector and mentor; as more than just a master. The Force meant for us to be a team; I know it. And our bond feels just as natural as breathing or using the Force."

"And who does the Council listen to on matters of the heart?" Yoda asks with the patience of the great teacher that he is.

"Well…to the Force," Obi-Wan says.

"To whom should you listen, then, Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"To…to the Force?" Obi-Wan asks, hardly believing what he is hearing. _Is Yoda giving me his blessing to continue being attached to Qui-Gon?_

"More like your master in this regard, you need to be," Yoda harrumphs. "Never listens to the Council, he does, on matters of the heart."

"So…I should just follow my feelings and trust the Force? Even if it means having an attachment?" Obi-Wan asks in astonishment, knowing he is being redundant but needing confirmation.

He supposes he sort of deserves it this time when Yoda hits him again on the shin with his stick.

"Taught you this since the day you arrived at the Temple, we have. Use your brain, you should," Yoda grumps.

Obi-Wan's shin hurts but he feels like laughing. Suddenly with Yoda's sage words, he feels about ten times lighter. He hadn't realized how burdened by guilt he'd felt these past months; how he'd felt like he was betraying the Order and all it stands for this whole time. It is as though a giant weight has been lifted from his chest.

Yoda is right, of course—the Force had brought him and Qui-Gon together against all odds, and the Force had made their bond so strong. He just needs to continue to trust in the Force as he has been for his entire life. If it ever comes down to a choice between Qui-Gon's life and the lives of a village or a city or even a planet, the Force will guide him down the right path. It seems so obvious now, and he can't believe he had wasted all that time feeling so worried.

But in spite of the lightness that this revelation has caused, he quickly comes plummeting back down to reality. Qui-Gon is still missing; and the hole in his mind where Qui-Gon's Force presence had been just last night feels connected to the hole in his heart that grows with each moment he sits with no word of his master's fate.

But at least Master Yoda is here—the small master seems to be either sleeping or meditating, paying Obi-Wan no mind after doling out his advice. But the walls of the quarters feel a little less restricting as he settles in to wait once more.

* * *

><p>Bant is the next to arrive a few hours later. She knows the code to their keypad, and she lets herself in.<p>

"Obi-Wan!" She cries. "I just heard—I'm so sorry; I would've been here sooner, but I didn't know. Are you okay?"

She pulls him into a tight embrace before he can answer.

When she lets him go after a long moment, he settles for a shrug in response. Honestly, he isn't okay, and Bant knows that without him having to say it. She pulls him back in for another hug when she sees his face.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Obi," she soothes. "Qui-Gon is so in tune with the Living Force; I'm sure it would have warned him of the danger before the volcano erupted. I'll sit with you while you wait, okay?"

Obi-Wan nods gratefully, allowing Bant to lead him back to the couch like he is a little child.

"Master Yoda!" Bant remarks in surprise, raising an eyebrow when she sees who is perched on top of the caff table. She hastily drops into a low bow, brushing against the _draconis _plant and almost knocking it off the couch in the process.

"No!" Obi-Wan gasps, speaking for the first time since his conversation with Yoda had ended a few hours ago. He dives for the plant, automatically using the Force to cushion its fall as it drops neatly into his arms. He is sure that this qualifies as a frivolous use of the Force, but he doesn't care—at some point in the past twelve hours, he has gone from hating the plant to depending on its survival. He knows it is probably just a misplaced desire to have some control over the fate of _something's _life right now as everything crumbles around him, but Qui-Gon had loved this plant; had nurtured it and hummed to it and given it fertilizer for the past several months. Obi-Wan will not let anything happen to it.

Bant, bless her, doesn't question the surrealness of the situation beyond a mere raise of her eyebrows —Obi-Wan clinging to a plant like he is an Arconan clinging to dactyl, and Yoda meditating peacefully on the caff table. She takes a seat with him on the couch, settling in silently to wait for the tell-tale beep of Obi-Wan's comm unit.

He still feels cold and numb as he sits there, even surrounded by his best friend and the most powerful Jedi in the past millennium, but his fingers grow slightly warmer when Bant reaches over and squeezes his hand.

* * *

><p>Tahl comes next.<p>

She lets herself in—he and Qui-Gon _really _need to get their door code changed—bearing a large pot of stew. She doesn't seem surprised to find Yoda and Bant there, and greets all three of them in her quiet, focused way.

She pulls Obi-Wan in for a brief embrace, and then releases him and holds him at arm's length. Though her eyes can no longer see, he can sense her scrutinizing him, and in her own unseeing gaze, he sees the same fear and grief that he knows is echoed in his own visage.

They are perhaps the two people who love Qui-Gon the most in the world, and he knows that she is the only one who truly understands how he feels.

"Well, the stew won't eat itself," she says after a moment, her voice a little too bright to be convincing. "Come now, Obi-Wan, you need to keep your strength up." She ushers the three of them into the kitchen unit, placing a hand on Bant's shoulder and squeezing as the girl walks by.

Bant smiles warmly at her master, and it makes Obi-Wan's heart glad to see the affection developing between the two of them. He knows that Bant has had some doubts about being an inconvenience to Tahl because she is such a young and inexperienced padawan, but it is clear that they have a strong bond.

Of course, thinking of this only reminds Obi-Wan of the early days of his apprenticeship with Qui-Gon, and grief steals its way into his chest so painfully that he can barely move for a moment.

Though Tahl can't see him, she somehow knows the train of his thoughts.

"Obi-Wan," she says, passing him a warm bowl of stew. His breath catches in his chest and suddenly he remembers how to sit down again. "Did I ever tell you about the time on New Apolson when Qui-Gon got himself backed into a corner by over a hundred battle droids? If he could survive that, a volcano will be nothing. Anyway, it was a dark night and we went out for a walk…"

* * *

><p>After dinner, Pharrin and Nat are next to arrive.<p>

"We heard some of the Jedi talking about it down in the infirmary," Pharrin says, shaking his head. He accepts a cup of tea from Tahl, pulls a flask out of his pocket, and adds some of his own concoction to the cup—perhaps a stiff drink to make him feel better about his friend's disappearance. "It's a damn shame what happened to all those people on Ilyrium. But Qui-Gon will be fine, Obi-Wan— I'm sure of it. He's been in a lot of tight situations before." Pharrin tries to keep his voice upbeat, perhaps for Nat's sake, but Obi-Wan can hear the lack of hope overshadowing the words. No matter how many tight corners one had found themselves in before, a random volcanic eruption was a pretty difficult thing to escape from.

Nat is almost completely done with treatment, and it still startles Obi-Wan to see how much healthier the boy looks now compared to when they first met. He is subdued tonight, however, quietly taking a seat next to Obi-Wan on the couch in the common room where the small party is gathered. He leans into Obi-Wan's side, whether to draw comfort from Obi-Wan or to give comfort to him, he doesn't know.

"I miss Master Qui-Gon," Nat says quietly. Obi-Wan remembers suddenly that Nat's mother had died only a year ago, and supposes that it's natural that the child should fear other people in his life dying, even though he doesn't know Qui-Gon very well or see him very often.

"Me too," Obi-Wan returns softly.

"I'd be really scared if my daddy ever went missing, Obi-Wan. You must be really scared."

For once, Obi-Wan doesn't bother to correct Nat referring to Qui-Gon as his father.

* * *

><p>Last, and perhaps most randomly, a Twi'lek maintenance man shows up.<p>

"Hello," he says pleasantly when Obi-Wan opens the door to him. "I'm here to take a look at a leak in the kitchen unit of this apartment? All the maintenance droids are currently in service elsewhere, so they sent me."

Obi-Wan wordlessly motions the man inside, suddenly unable to speak around the lump in his throat as he thinks of Qui-Gon's to-do list for him. He is saved from having to interact further by Tahl, who ushers the now-confused man over to the couch.

"Why don't you have a cup of tea instead?" She says firmly, passing him a teacup.

"Well, that's nice, but I'm really just here for the—"

"This isn't really a good time," Bant interjects gently.

"But I—"

"Drink your tea," Tahl commands.

So the maintenance man sits with them obediently and sips on his tea, occasionally looking around the assembled crowd with a look of absolute bewilderment.

Obi-Wan supposes that they are a somewhat bizarre group—they have all sorts of ages and species represented here, and none of them are speaking to each other. Just sitting in somber vigil, clutching teacups with grim expressions.

When he has finished his tea, the man stands nervously, as though he is uncertain as to whether or not they will detain him if he tries to leave.

"Right," he says. "So…I'll just be back another time to look at that sink. Have a good night."

When nobody responds, he hastily edges away to the front door. He pauses at the doorway, however, and turns around with a strange expression on his face.

"Whoever you're all waiting for or worrying over….I hope they're okay," he says earnestly. And then he is gone, and Obi-Wan is left wondering at the strange convention of people who have come together to worry for Qui-Gon.

The night creeps on, and the wait continues.

* * *

><p>Eventually, everyone leaves.<p>

Pharrin and Nat are first to go, Nat drowsing in his father's arms. Then Bant and Tahl, who promise to return first thing in the morning if there is still no news. Finally it is just Obi-Wan and Yoda left, and just as he is preparing to leave, Yoda's comm beeps.

Obi-Wan freezes where he is standing and strains to hear the other side of the conversation as Yoda makes non-committal hums of agreement or acknowledgment.

By the time the conversation is over, he feels like he might explode if he doesn't get some information.

"Contacted me, Masters Renthal and Frey have," Yoda says unhelpfully.

"What did they say? Have they found Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan asks, clutching the _draconis _plant for support.

"Found him, they have not."

Obi-Wan's heart sinks somewhere down into his lower abdomen.

"But mean that he is dead, this does not," Yoda continues firmly. "Trust in the Force you must. Now more than ever."

"Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan asks, suddenly feeling very young and very unequipped to deal with this monumental a situation. "Have you seen the future at all to know if Qui-Gon is alright?" He knows it is rude and probably prying to ask the great master about his visions, but he _has _to know.

Yoda seems to understand this. "Clouded, the future is for Qui-Gon. Critical, the next few hours will be for him. That is all I know." The master bows to Obi-Wan first—a sign of great respect—and then he too, departs, leaving Obi-Wan with the _draconis _plant.

Suddenly realizing how exhausted he is, he supposes he will go lay down in his bed for a few hours. He can't imagine actually sleeping at a time like this, but he might as well be comfortable for the time being.

As he shuffles down the hallway towards his room, his feet stop in front of Qui-Gon's door. He stands as if rooted there for a long moment, finally pushing open the door and stepping inside the dark, hushed space.

He very rarely comes in here—Qui-Gon respects his privacy, so he does his best to respect his master's privacy as well. It is a standard Jedi room; few personal artifacts or pieces of furniture. A couple of plants litter the shelves, along with some datapads and a rolled up meditation mat in one corner. Obi-Wan is startled to see one of his own sketches tucked on the small writing table by the sleeping couch. He'd done it one night and had left it on the couch in the common room, forgetting all about it when it was no longer there in the morning.

He'd been sitting on the couch, bored and looking at his Force rock when the inspiration for the drawing struck him. He'd imagined what the River of Light on Qui-Gon's home world would look like, and he'd done his best to replicate that on flimsy. He wonders if he had been accurate in his imagination for Qui-Gon to actually recognize and keep the drawing. The rock seems to hold memories and impressions, so it is possible that he'd actually drawn the River of Light correctly.

Crossing the room, trying not to feel like too much of an intruder, Obi-Wan takes a seat on Qui-Gon's neatly-made sleep couch. He pauses tentatively for a moment before making up his mind.

Pulling back the covers, he slips inside, curling up and cocooning himself on the sleep couch.

He is instantly awash in the familiar smell of his master—the scent of herbal tea mixed with something woodsy; a sharp contrast to the industrial artificialness of Coruscant. He can feel the warm imprint of Qui-Gon's Force presence here too, and struggles to breathe through the tears that arise suddenly.

He hasn't allowed himself to cry this entire day and evening of agonizing uncertainty, but he gives into the emotion now, weeping bitter tears of anguish into Qui-Gon's pillow. For the first time, he forces himself to imagine life without Qui-Gon in it—waking up each day alone; with nobody to sit with him after nightmares or teach him to shave or put extra vegetables on his plate at evening meal. Nobody to tease him about Siri Tachi or banter with him about the rules of the Council.

Nobody there to teach him how to be a Jedi. Nobody to teach him how to be a man.

"Father," he whispers quietly into the darkness, tears springing into his eyes anew. He has thought the word in the privacy of his own mind; had said it on Andros X many times under the guise of the mission. But now he finally allows himself to speak the word out loud, just once; even if it is alone and in mourning.

_He should have been there. Qui-Gon shouldn't have been alone. _

Obi-Wan knows that he would probably be dead too if he'd been with Qui-Gon and they'd found themselves trapped in a volcanic eruption. But the thought of Qui-Gon sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of what was happening around him as death crept closer and closer is unbearable. It would have been fast and painless, but Qui-Gon shouldn't have been alone.

That is what being a master-padawan team _means_: that they face all dangers, even death, together. And while Qui-Gon had quite possibly perished, Obi-Wan had been snoring away here on Coruscant.

And has he ever even _thanked _Qui-Gon for all that the man has done for him? Ever taken a moment to express his gratitude to the man who had trusted the Force enough to take Obi-Wan on as a padawan, even after all the hurt Xanatos had put him through?

And now he may never get to speak to the man ever again—he hadn't even paid attention during their last conversation right before Qui-Gon left!

He wipes his eyes on his sleeve, struggling to get himself back under control again. He gathers up all his emotions, just as he has been taught to do, feels each one for what it is, and releases it into the Force.

After he is done he is left with only a sort of calm numbness. He presses his cheek onto Qui-Gon's pillow, allowing his heavy eyelids to slide shut, worn out from crying.

He drifts off to sleep with tears still drying on his face, and his mind wrapped in the lingering remnants of his master's Force presence like a safety blanket.

* * *

><p>When morning comes, Obi-Wan awakes slowly, his head aching.<p>

There is no sudden realization of his sadness; no abrupt remembrance of all that had transpired yesterday shattering the peaceful oblivion of sleep. No, he awakes knowing exactly where he is and why he is there.

What does catch him off guard is the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen unit of their quarters. Perhaps Master Yoda has let himself in again and is puttering around in spite of the pre-dawn hour. Obi-Wan has long given up questioning the actions of the wizened little Jedi.

But as the footsteps come down the hallway, growing closer and closer to Qui-Gon's bedroom, Obi-Wan realizes that they belong to someone much larger than Yoda. They sound almost…familiar, if footsteps can truly be familiar. He curiously pushes outward with the Force, but can find no hint of danger. Nor can he feel any sense of Force presence from this intruder.

Grabbing his lightsaber off the nightstand just in case, Obi-Wan cautiously stands, squinting through the weak light filtering through the window. He remains frozen as the footsteps grow closer and closer, and the door slowly creaks open.

And then he falls right back on the bed when the unmistakable silhouette of Qui-Gon Jinn stands in the doorway.

"Obi-Wan?" His master's familiar voice is hoarse and low as he flicks on the light switch and floods the room with dim light. He does a quick double-take, as though confused as to whether or not he has mistakenly stepped into the wrong room upon finding Obi-Wan on his sleep couch.

Obi-Wan can't speak. He is fairly certain that this is what being in shock feels like. Perhaps his grief-stricken mind is imagining things now. Surely this is just some strange hallucination. But whatever it is, he can't deny that he selfishly wants it to last.

Phantom Qui-Gon seems too weary to question Obi-Wan's presence in his room. He toes off his boots and leans heavily on the doorframe.

"Well," the figment of Obi-Wan's imagination says. He sounds so much like the real Qui-Gon that it makes Obi-Wan's chest hurt. "As it turns out, I'm the 1 out of every 100,000 that the Red Fever vaccination doesn't work on. And then of course my holocom broke, so I couldn't contact the Temple to send reinforcements to help mediate the conflict on Ilyrium. It's been almost two days since I left, and it would be a wonder if the governor and the leader of the resistance have managed to go this long without killing one another."

Obi-Wan's mind races—the Red Fever is known to completely cut those who are Force sensitive out from the Force while the illness runs its course. That fact, combined with a broken holocom _would _make a plausible explanation for why Qui-Gon had suddenly gone off the radar, both physically and Force-wise. But even as hope rises, he quashes it. He can't bear to let his mind jump to conclusions, only to be wrong now.

Phantom Qui-Gon sighs. "I should probably go see Vokara Che, but I think I just want to sleep in my own bed for a few hours first. Once I head down to the Halls of Healing, she'll never let me leave, and I've already been treated for the illness on Ilyrium before I left, so I'm not contagious. I'll be fine, I just need to sleep for the next week straight." He steps closer, and Obi-Wan can see that the man is not well—his face is pale and drawn; his skin an unhealthy grayish hue. The Red Fever is characterized by extreme exhaustion and a steady fever. If red spots break out on the victim's skin by the second day, they will eventually die—it's a fact. But there are no red spots on Qui-Gon's skin, which means that he is one of the lucky ones.

_But it's not real, _he reminds himself. In spite of mounting evidence to the contrary, Obi-Wan continues to keep a tight leash on his stubbornly-burgeoning hope.

Meanwhile, as Obi-Wan continues to gape disbelievingly at him, the Qui-Gon apparition seems to notice that something is amiss.

"Are you alright, padawan? Have the nightmares been bad while I was gone?" He asks, his brow wrinkling in concern as he walks towards the bed. It is so like Qui-Gon to be worried for Obi-Wan even when he himself is in poor health that it makes Obi-Wan's eyes prickle. Clearly he has some deep-seated issues to be imagining this situation with this degree of clarity.

The phantom Qui-Gon reaches out as though to touch Obi-Wan on the shoulder, but Obi-Wan frantically scrambles backwards, scooting himself across the sleep couch so that his back is pressed up against the wall. He is terrified that the image of Qui-Gon that his mind is projecting will dissipate the moment that the man touches him, and he is not ready to be left alone again.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asks, sitting down tentatively on the edge of the sleep couch. The care in his voice only makes the prickling in Obi-Wan's eyes grow stronger. "What is it, padawan?"

Obi-Wan just shakes his head, gathering up all his Jedi courage. He reaches out slowly with one hand, watching in slow motion as his fingers grow closer and closer to Qui-Gon's sleeve before finally brushing against the unmistakably solid, very much real fabric.

It is no apparition or figment of Obi-Wan's troubled imagination—Qui-Gon is actually here. Alive; breathing, corporeal. Sick, but healing.

The prickle behind his eyes turns into gasping, breathless sobs as he goes weak with relief. He lunges forward to tackle the older Jedi, suddenly enraged by all the worry he'd been put through this past day. But somewhere halfway through the leap his clenched fist relaxes, and he winds up flinging himself at the man instead, properly crying now.

"I…I thought you were _dead!_"

Qui-Gon, who had responded quite calmly to suddenly finding his arms full of wailing teenage boy, stiffens upon Obi-Wan's words and pulls back slightly to study Obi-Wan's face with intent scrutiny.

"Dead? Why would you think such a thing?"

"Because I couldn't feel the bond anymore and there was a volcano on Ilyrium and you weren't _there _in my mind when I tried to make sure you were okay and—" Obi-Wan has to stop to take a breath. He notices that Qui-Gon's face is very, very pale and that his eyes are brighter than normal, probably with fever. "Sorry," he says, swiping at a traitorous tear, embarrassed to be carrying on so when his sick master probably just wants to rest on his own sleep couch. He forces himself to breathe evenly, scooting away to give the man some room."I'm just glad you're okay."

To his great surprise, he is almost immediately pulled back in to sit close to Qui-Gon's side, one strong arm wrapped around his shoulders.

The man takes a deep breath, his eyes looking pained. Obi-Wan wonders if the Red Fever is as miserable as it is always made out to be.

"Obi-Wan," he says, exhaustion heavy in his words. "I don't know what you're talking about exactly, but I can assure you that I am very much alive, and that I plan on staying this way for a very long time."

"You should rest, Master," Obi-Wan says, sharp, joyful energy suddenly thrumming vibrantly though his body. _Qui-Gon is alive! And he is going to be fine. _"I'll explain it all when you're feeling better."

He gently slides his way out from under his master's arm, easing out of the way so that Qui-Gon can recline. He quickly fetches a glass of water from the kitchen unit, and by the time he returns, Qui-Gon's eyes are closed.

"Thank you, Padawan," Qui-Gon murmurs wearily. "What would I do without you?"

It's a rhetorical question, but it makes Obi-Wan's tears resurface. He stands for a long moment, just watching the rise and fall of Qui-Gon's chest as his master sleeps. He will have to go comm Master Che; to let her know that Qui-Gon needs medical attention. He needs to tell the Council and Bant and Tahl that Qui-Gon is alive and accounted for. But for a moment, he allows himself to just breathe. He still can't feel Qui-Gon with the Force and he won't be able to until the man is better, but for now it's enough to just see him with his own eyes.

"Thank you," he whispers to the Force. By the warmth that suddenly threads through his veins, he knows he has been heard.

* * *

><p>The next few days are a blur of confusion and emotion; sitting by Qui-Gon's bedside and trying to piece together what had happened on Ilyrium; mourning for the innocent lives lost and the catastrophic consequences of the volcano; explaining to everyone that Qui-Gon is alive and going through the stages of shock and joy with them each time.<p>

Obi-Wan feels as if he is in a daze—he is so relieved to simply see Qui-Gon that he is perhaps a bit overenthusiastic in his attempts to help the older man recover.

"Obi-Wan, you've brought me three cups of tea in the past hour alone—I'll drown if you keep going at this rate," Qui-Gon points out dryly one afternoon four days after his return to the Temple as Obi-Wan places yet another cup of healing tea on his bedside table.

He looks much better today in particular, and Vokara Che thinks that he will be allowed to get up and start moving around tomorrow if he takes it easy today. The treatment they had given him on Ilyrium before he'd left the planet had stopped him from being contagious, but it had done little to actually treat the illness. Qui-Gon is still weak, but he is getting better.

"Sorry, Master," Obi-Wan says. "Can I get you something else instead? Another pillow? Some muja juice?"

"No, what you _can _do is stop your fretting and talk to me. I hardly see you these days; you're so busy cleaning and plumping pillows and brewing enough tea to fill the Mondovi sea."

"Sorry, Master," Obi-Wan grins. He supposes it's true—he has been a blur of motion lately, trying to keep occupied so he doesn't have to dwell on how close he had come to losing Qui-Gon.

The other reason is because he had had the vision again yesterday— the one of himself at 25, standing with a young padawan and looking upon Qui-Gon's funeral pyre.

It will come to pass, he fears.

He has never had a vision more than once, and he can only figure that the Force is telling him that it is meant to be. But it weighs heavily upon him—just days ago, he had wished with all his might for more time with Qui-Gon; just a little more _time. _

What he hadn't counted on was knowing exactly how much time he would probably have with the older man. And that makes it harder, somehow, looking upon the beloved face of his master and knowing that Qui-Gon only has eleven years left. Eleven more years of drinking tea with the man; of learning from his strange wisdom; of bickering about the Council and the helpless beings that Qui-Gon takes on. Eleven more years of wearing a padawan braid.

"Padawan? You seem troubled. Anything on your mind?"

Always perceptive, even without the Force.

"No, Master," Obi-Wan says, putting on a brave face. The future is changeable. Just because he had had the vision twice doesn't mean it absolutely must come to pass. He will do everything in his power to make sure it doesn't, in any event. "Just trying to figure out how many cups of tea more I'll have to brew before you're all better and are making me do the obstacle course in training salle 8."

Qui-Gon laughs, deep and open, and something loosens in Obi-Wan's chest. It is hard to worry about the future when he has the here and now. He remembers Yoda's words to him the other night—the Force had put Qui-Gon in Obi-Wan's life and had given them such a strong bond. And it will be the Force that will eventually tear Qui-Gon away from him.

No matter what happens, he will live each day appreciating the gift of having Qui-Gon in his life. Even if it is for one day more or eleven years more, he won't take his master for granted. And when the time comes to let the older man go, he will mourn but he will trust in the Force.

"Oh, trust me, Obi-Wan—when you are a master one day, you'll enjoy watching your padawan swing upside-down on the rings course. It's one of the simple pleasures Jedi Masters are allowed in life. What do we get to do for fun besides torturing younglings?" Qui-Gon laughs.

Obi-Wan's chest clenches at the mention of the distant _someday. _When he has his own padawan, Qui-Gon won't be around anymore to go to for advice when his padawan acts out or rebels.

_Live in the moment, Obi-Wan, _he reminds himself, Qui-Gon's famous saying flashing into his mind. "I'm sure I'll enjoy it very much, Master," he smiles. "But I'm content with just being your padawan for now. I don't mind the obstacle course, really."

Perhaps Qui-Gon reads something of the seriousness behind Obi-Wan's casual humor, because his eyes are solemn when he answers. "And I am more than content with being your master for now, and for many years to come, Obi-Wan."

They hold each other's gaze for a long moment. "A hand of sabacc, Padawan?"

"Sure, Master," Obi-Wan says, standing to fetch the deck, smoothing the leaves of the _draconis _plant as he walks by it.

The Force had spared Qui-Gon's life for a reason this past week, and Obi-Wan wouldn't take it for granted.

_Eleven years. _

He would make it count.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading! There will be one more bonus chapter from Qui-Gon's POV. I have it written already and will get it up and posted once I have time to edit it.<br>**


	6. Chapter 6

**Last chapter! Sorry, I'm probably mean for ending it like this, but this was the story that my fingers wanted me to tell when I opened up the word doc. It's got a happy-ish ending though? So stick with it :P  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>And if you're there when the world comes to gather me in <em>

_Oh, if you're there, I will be blessed._

_-From "I Will Be Blessed" by Ben Howard_

**6. And One Time Qui-Gon (Briefly) Wished He Wasn't a Father**

The fact that Qui-Gon feels no pain tells him that this is the end.

He had felt the wicked red blade slice through his chest; the immense pressure and heat of Maul's saber cutting through his robes and his flesh, tearing straight to his heart and vital organs. But still, he feels no pain as his legs buckle and give out from underneath him.

White noise screams in his ears, and everything feels frozen in time as he falls, first to his knees and then to the hard ground. The Force surges through him; urgent and tenuous, singing through his veins with a strange mix of deep, deep grief and a quiet joy that is just as strong as the sadness. Qui-Gon Jinn's time in this life is through, and the Force knows it. Qui-Gon knows it too, and with knowing comes acceptance and a strange peace.

_There is no death, there is the Force._

Black spots dance in his vision, but his eyes still seek out the one face that is more important to him than anything else in the world. Across the chamber where they battle Maul, Obi-Wan's face is contorted in a horrified scream.

He is too weak to do anything beyond lying there and trying to draw his next breath, but he and Obi-Wan have always had an uncommonly strong bond. One of the strongest bonds in the history of the recent Jedi Order, in fact. So he can feel every single one of Obi-Wan's emotions coursing through their bond at the moment—the swirling, overwhelming mixture of fear, adrenaline, rage, and absolute panic that Qui-Gon is dying.

It is not the Jedi way for Obi-Wan to feel this strongly for his master; to feel this degree of attachment to another being— but Qui-Gon cannot deny that the feelings are reciprocated on his end, too. He thinks wryly of when he'd first met Obi-Wan; of how hurt he had been by Xanatos' betrayal at the time; how certain he'd been that he would never take on another padawan learner. And Obi-Wan had burst into his life; a pure bright light in the Force—and somewhere between dangerous missions and shared muja fruits and a polished, opalescent river stone given as a life-day gift, they had become family.

It is not the Jedi way, but then again, Qui-Gon has always been a maverick, and Obi-Wan has always followed his example when it had counted; in spite of all his grumblings about order and respecting tradition and the Council.

He can feel the anger in Obi-Wan's fighting and reaches out desperately to his apprentice, even though it costs almost all of his fast-waning energy. _"Do not fight with anger, Obi-Wan," _he commands through their bond. One last lesson from master to padawan. _"Do not give into the Dark side. Honor your master, and don't end it like this."_

He can feel Obi-Wan's struggle against his anger—something that has always been a weakness of the boy's, although he has come so far in the past ten years— and he knows the exact second when Obi-Wan sighs and gives in to his master's instruction; the last instruction that he will ever mentally send to his apprentice. The duel changes slightly; becoming more focused and intense as the ire dies from Obi-Wan's swift, agile motions, and turns into the simple, overwhelmingly pure power of the Force.

And just as soon as it began, it is all over. Darth Maul is dead, and Obi-Wan has killed him, although he hadn't turned to the Dark side in the end. Pride sings through Qui-Gon's veins even as his life bleeds out of his body. Obi-Wan runs to him, gathering his master in his arms, and Qui-Gon feels only peace, in spite of the pain that is now beginning to register as his body is shifted and jostled.

He lifts his eyes heavenward, where the sky would be if not for the roof. Naboo is known for its beautiful sunsets, and he thinks of dying sunlight and evening stars as he lifts his fervid praise and thanksgiving up to the Force; the end and beginning of all things. _Thank you for granting me the gift and privilege of this boy's life. Thank you for my time with him. _

His eyes drift downwards to Obi-Wan's face. He dimly notes that there is a shadow of stubble on Obi-Wan's cheeks, and wonders when his apprentice had become a man without him noticing. When had his arms become so strong; his fighting so advanced that he could defeat a Sith lord single-handedly? What had happened to the sweet, stubborn twelve-year-old he'd taken on all those years ago? When had he become a Jedi Knight, more than capable of passing the Trials?

He knows that time is fast running out for the two of them, and there is still so much to say. He hasn't fully explained himself about offering to train Anakin and letting Obi-Wan take the Trials. There is so much left unspoken, and so little time.

"Obi-Wan," he breathes. Obi-Wan is shaking with barely-repressed sobs. His ginger padawan braid brushes across Qui-Gon's forehead, and Qui-Gon realizes with a sort of bittersweet nostalgia that it will likely be cut off very, very soon once he is gone. "Promise…promise me you'll train the boy."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan chokes out, ever the obedient, perfect padawan. He suddenly sounds much younger than his twenty-five years, and Qui-Gon reaches out with the remainder of his strength, lightly brushing the back of two of his fingers over Obi-Wan's cheek, pouring all the love and affection he can muster into the gesture and through their dying bond.

"He is the Chosen One," Qui-Gon continues weakly, desperate to give Obi-Wan this last, incredibly vital mission. "He…will bring balance. Train him."

Obi-Wan is bobbing his head vigorously in agreement, tears welling up in those ever-changing eyes. The bond is flickering now, but Qui-Gon can still feel Obi-Wan's thoughts, and his chest contracts sharply at the absolute anguish in his padawan's mind, even as his eyes drift shut one last time, as though against his will.

Obi-Wan's grief is crushing; soul-consuming….and for a brief instant Qui-Gon wants to take back his earlier gratitude; wishing fleetingly that he could go back and undo their whole relationship and all the years leading up to this moment, if only to shelter Obi-Wan from this; to spare the boy that is his son in all but blood from this pain.

But just as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he pushes it away. The Force has a reason for everything, and he trusts in it. And he would not change his time with Obi-Wan for anything.

He is almost gone now—there is time for perhaps just one more thought before he must surrender to the expectant warmth of the Force. He feels the press of Obi-Wan's face against his own, dripping tears against his cheek; feels him mentally pleading and begging with Qui-Gon to _just stay with me, master!_

"_Little one," _he whispers through the thin, spindly thread of their bond. _"Obi-Wan, my son…"_

And then there is no pain or regret anymore; nothing but light and peace and the Force. His last thought as he dies is a reflection on the irony of his life—all this time, he'd thought his vocation was simply to be a Jedi Master; to serve the Jedi Order and the Force.

What he hadn't realized; what he hadn't put a name to until the very end, was that he had been a father all these years too.

* * *

><p>For many years, he watches from afar.<p>

His boy becomes a strong and just Jedi Master, just as Qui-Gon always knew he would. The pride is still there, but so is worry and grief for all the Obi-Wan suffers. He sees Obi-Wan's struggle to do right by Anakin; to train the boy to the best of his abilities, and he regrets having placed the burden on the young man's shoulders.

Obi-Wan cuts his padawan braid and grows a beard, and his ever-changing eyes settle into a wise, somber blue-gray. He is strong and handsome; the perfect image of a Jedi Knight.

Qui-Gon watches grimly as Anakin's anger spirals out of control and leads him to the Dark Side, but even then, he still trusts in the prophecy; knowing that Anakin will eventually bring balance one day, even if it isn't in the way they had all anticipated and hoped for.

He feels Obi-Wan's grief, guilt, and self-loathing as Anakin loses the battle with his rage and becomes Darth Vader, and his heart aches for both of them. For Anakin, who had been unable to overcome his attachments and fear, and for Obi-Wan, who views himself as a failure after his padawan turns. Qui-Gon is familiar with that same sadness; having felt the exact same way when Xanatos had succumbed to the Dark Side.

Still, Obi-Wan does not give up. He guards young Luke Skywalker from afar in the lonely sands of Tattooine, and Qui-Gon aches for the way that lines of age settle prematurely into his padawan's face; the way his hair greys and his smile grows infrequent. He lives peacefully as a hermit for eighteen long years; meditating and monitoring the Rebel Alliance from afar; ensuring that the young Skywalker boy remains anonymous and safe until he is ready for his destiny. But Obi-Wan had not been born for this kind of existence—he blazed brightly in the Force; had trained extensively in diplomacy and combat, and was not meant for the simple, ascetic life of a hermit. _He had had so much potential._

How differently everything had turned out from what they had all hoped for! And yet, as always, the Force offered guidance and strength as the years went on, and there was still hope with young Skywalker.

Qui-Gon feels pride overflow as he watches Obi-Wan guide young Luke towards the Force. And he watches with peaceful acceptance as Obi-Wan goes to meet his death fighting Vader. He knows, as Obi-Wan does too, what the outcome of the duel will be. But Obi-Wan has played his role in the Force's great plan, and now it is finally his time to rest from what has been a very hard life.

Qui-Gon feels it keenly the moment that Obi-Wan's life is cut off, and he waits anxiously for his padawan to rejoin the Force. The situation is somewhat unique, as Obi-Wan has been struck down by his own padawan and thus has the ability to remain on the celestial plane somewhat, but he knows that Obi-Wan will still be able to join the flow of the afterlife where Qui-Gon waits with Tahl, Mace Windu, Siri Tachi, Bant Eerin and other friends from the days when life had seemed so simple.

Soon enough, he feels the familiar warmth of Obi-Wan's Force signature, and excitement stirs in his chest. To the others, perhaps, the newly-deceased Jedi Master appears in the afterlife as he had looked when he had died—grey beard, kind eyes that had seen too much; thin, wiry body. And perhaps to others, he appears as he had when _they _died during the Clone Wars—a ginger-bearded, well-spoken, quick-witted Knight.

But to Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan is the same as he has always been in Qui-Gon's mind and memory: a lanky, smooth-faced thirteen-year-old; solemn-mouthed and yet with humor in his bright eyes.

Obi-Wan stands some twenty feet away from Qui-Gon in the white light of the Force, his head bowed. Qui-Gon is so overwhelmed by his joy that it takes him a moment to recognize Obi-Wan's conflicting emotions—fear that he will not be accepted here because of his failure to keep Anakin away from the Dark Side, and guilt that he had left Luke Skywalker behind with so much of his destiny left to be fulfilled.

But Qui-Gon pushes all the warmth that he can muster through their returned and renewed bond, and sees Obi-Wan's head jerk up in surprise at the familiar mental touch. A tentative smile crosses his young face as he sees his Master, only to be replaced by trepidation that Qui-Gon will be disappointed with the life his padawan has lived.

But Qui-Gon only smiles gently at the way the boy nervously chews on his lower lip, calling out to him from across the light. "Little one." Obi-Wan's luminous eyes fill with tears. "You've done well, my son."

And then Obi-Wan is running to him, any trace of hesitation gone; flinging himself into Qui-Gon's embrace. They had rarely hugged in life, but it feels as familiar as the grooves of a lightsaber handle in the palm of his hand now; the way that Obi-Wan's slight weight presses and settles against him, strong grip wrapping around Qui-Gon's waist.

"I missed you, Master," Obi-Wan breathes after a long moment.

"And I, you," Qui-Gon returns with a smile. "But I have watched you from afar as much as possible. Even in the worst moments, you were never truly alone."

Obi-Wan draws away from Qui-Gon's shoulder, wonder sparking in his eyes. Qui-Gon marvels at the pure white of his former padawan's Force signature for the umpteenth time.

"There were many happy moments, too, Master," Obi-Wan says humbly. "It was difficult, but the Force has been good to me."

And there will be time to hear about those moments, but for now he just enjoys the feeling Obi-Wan's joy pulsing through their renewed bond, a single phrase singing through his mind and into Qui-Gon's.

_Home again at last. _

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, I know Yoda and Obi-Wan have a brief convo at the end of RotS about how Obi-Wan could commune with Qui-Gon, but I couldn't really find any info on that in those interim years between ep III and IV, and I felt like it would be a more meaningful reunion this way, so ignore that canonical inconsistency there haha<strong>

**Again, thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I don't have any specific projects planned for this fandom in the near future, but I'll be back again once the muse strikes, although it's hard to say when that'll be.  
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